Lovers in a Dangerous Time
by xXfireXflyXx
Summary: Bellatrix Black, aged twenty-nine, finds herself in a cruel world of Dark Marks and wicked men. But by Merlin - She's loving every minute of it.
1. Masks

"I'm afraid she won't be able to have children, Mrs. Black."  
"What?! What's wrong with her?! What have you done now, girl?!"  
"There was nothing anyone could do, Mrs. Black... She was just never meant to have children, so it seems."

The conversation played over in Bellatrix's head for countless days after her doctor's appointment, and if she was being brutally honest, she had never been happier. Who wanted little snot nosed children running around, screaming for something or another anyway?

Besides, the look of horror and disappointment on her mother's face made it all worth the trip into London.

Bellatrix added a hint of Firewhiskey to her drink with all the subtlety she could muster, then leaned back against the wall, utter boredom displayed on her aristocratic features.

Her mother's parties were always the same. Countless unfamiliar faces arrived at the Black Manor, ate their food, drank their wine, and danced the night away until the early hours of the morning. All the woman always asked the three Black girls the same question; So, any marriages in the future?

Narcissa, the youngest and by far most elegant, would bat her eyelashes in mock shyness, then nod to Lucius Malfoy, the man who had been courting her since she left school several months ago. Bellatrix could barely stand the man before he had been introduced to her baby sister, but now, now that they were dating, it was completely impossible to like him. They were more similar then people would have guessed, she and Narcissa. While Bellatrix was dark, her black hair a classic noble feature, Narcissa was light, her near white hair radiating elegance. Narcissa would never admit it, but she was almost the same as Bellatrix in private. However, in public, she played the giggling eighteen year old her mother made her out to be.

Her second sister, the middle child, was the intelligent Andromeda Black. Bellatrix was five years her senior, eleven to Narcissa, yet the fair haired girl was always showing her up. Andromeda was in Slytherin, just like everyone expected, but Bellatrix would often sneer that she belonged in Hufflepuff, or even Gryffindor, but certainly not Slytherin. Currently, Andromeda was in her parents favour. After all, this party was a celebration to her engagement to Evan Rosier, a man in his late thirties, with slick blonde hair and awfully small hands. Her younger sister loathed the man with every moral fiber in her body, and for once, Bellatrix sided with Andromeda.  
Not many men placed a bid in for Bellatrix.

Atleast, not after word got out she couldn't have children. What man would want a woman that could not bear him an heir, anyway? Gods, those were her mother's words, constantly ringing in her head. The only downside to not having a suitor was the fact she would be forced to live with her parents until she was married, and the way things were going, it looked as though that would never happen.

She glanced sideways casually, taking in her apperance in the mirror. Her mother refused to let her wear black to another one of these lively parties, so she raided Narcissa's closet in hopes of finding something suitable. Though her sister was younger, she was much taller, so her dresses needed a bit of an adjustment, but she finally found one that fit. It hugged her body nicely, swelling over her well developed chest, and enhancing her slim waist. Almost thirty, Bellatrix needed all the help she could get if she ever wanted to leave her parents watchful eye with a man.

Not many men appealed to her tastes, however. Many were too sappy, without a backbone, while others were so interested in themselves she wanted to hex herself to death.

She adjusted the shoulder strap of her silky red dress, then glared at herself; she looked like such a Gryffindor. How Narcissa talked her into wearing this was beyond her understanding.

After downing her drink swiftly, she shoved the empty glass into a house elf's hand, then moved swiftly through the crowd, keeping a steady pace so no one would stop her and chat her ear off, as many at these sorts of occasions did. She grasped her own personal house elf and dragged her aside, bending down to whisper in her ear, "Where are my cigarettes?"

"Here, missis," the creature squeaked, sliding them slyly into Bellatrix's hand, "Jinky also found another bottle of spirits, unopened. Does missis want it in her room?"  
"Yes, good girl," Bellatrix praised, smiling on the inside as the elf swept off, slipping a bottle of Ogden's Finest under her ratty cloak. If she was caught, atleast Bellatrix could blame her and state that the elf was stealing.

Bellatrix hid the pack in the palm of her hand, and Narcissa raised an eyebrow as the raven-haired witch snuck outside, shutting the glass door silently behind her. It's not like Bellatrix had a man to entertain; she wouldn't be missed.

She pulled a cigarette out desperately and lit it, taking a drag and puffing out a swirl of grey smoke, grinning. She had been craving this all night.

The gardens looked boring as ever that fall evening. The trees were in the middle of losing their leaves, and the Black sister could hardly wait until the winter season; barren days and dreadful nights were always something she looked forward to.

She continued to raise the cigarette to her plump lips, trying to resist the urge to have another as the smoke slowly got smaller. A group of deep voice around the other side of the wall suddenly caught her attention. Baritone chuckles echoed through the drafty night, and when she moved closer, she distinctly made out a Lucius Malfoy, Rodolphus Lestrange, Severus Snape, and Evan Rosier, all chortling over something or another.

"You should have seen the Muggle," Lucius went on, his arrogant voice making Bellatrix cringe, "The pathetic look on his face was priceless."  
"These are the sorts of memories you don't forget," Evan added wistfully, taking a swig of something, "These are the ones you cherish."  
"The Dark Lord was pleased with the progress then?" Severus inquired lightly, at which point Bellatrix inhaled a bit too much and coughed silently into her arm. The Dark Lord? She had no idea any of these men were associated with Him!

Bellatrix had heard rumours of a Dark Lord Voldemort. He was completely against the Ministry and everything they stood for; everything Bellatrix hated. Apparently, he had a band of men who followed him, who appropriately named themselves Death Eaters, and always left a mark above the home of their victims.

Bellatrix knew from the moment she heard those words roll off of Severus Snape's lip; she wanted in.  
"You know," Bellatrix droned, taking another drag of her cigarette, "If I didn't know any better, half of you have dates inside who are looking for a dance. Wouldn't they be horrified if they knew what you lot were discussing."  
"Come out of the shadows, little girl," Lucius snorted, pointing his wand at the low-burning torch above her and brightening it, "How long have you been listening?"  
"Long enough to be interested," she replied casually, tossing her spent smoke on the ground and squishing it with her shoe, "Long enough to doubt the Dark Lord would want his servants boasting so loudly of their accomplishments."  
Evan snorted loudly, "You know... If Lucius and I weren't marrying your sisters, we'd have to modify your memory, and I'm sure we'd enjoy doing it."  
"Do you honestly think I'd let you get near me with your... wands?" Bellatrix asked sweetly, her voice laced in venom, "I only made myself known because I want to know more."  
"Know more about what?" Lucius remarked, raising a blonde eyebrow, "About the Dark Lord, or our wands?"

Bellatrix rolled her eyes as the four men smirked at each other; they were all the same.  
Lucius was tall, the prime example of a proper Pureblood man. His hair nearly matched Narcissa's, and was long, somewhat girlish, in Bellatrix's opinion. Evan Rosier had short, dirty blonde hair, which was always slicked down, and stood just a little taller then herself, making him the shortest man present. Severus Snape had been in Narcissa's year, and was extremely dangerous, according to her sister. His dark hair curtained his face, hiding his true intentions deep within. And then there was Rodolphus Lestrange. A man two years older then she, his black hair was short, well kept, and a small mustache shrouded his face. He would have been handsome, had he not been so stuck up.

"So come on, out with it," Severus pressed when she joined the circle, "What do you want? Tsk. I thought your dear mother had asked you to give up smoking."  
"Tsk," Bellatrix sneered, looking pointedly down at his drink, "Old enough to drink, young man?"  
His lip curled with annoyance, and Rodolphus snorted, which caused Bellatrix to roll her eyes, "I wish to know more about the Dark Lord."  
"I'm afraid what you heard while you were eavesdropping is all you're going to hear."  
"I wasn't eavesdropping," she retaliated, glaring at Evan, "You four talk loud enough... I was astounded I couldn't hear you inside. I know you four work for him... How'd you get in?"  
"We were brought in through contacts," Lucius replied simply, his eyebrows knitting, "Why?"  
"I want in," she stated firmly. The four men exchanged amused glances, then burst out laughing, causing Bellatrix's face to flush with anger. She pulled her wand out from hiding and glared, "What, pray, is so funny?"

Severus was the first to sober, and he leered down at her, "The Dark Lord doesn't accept women, not matter how vicious their tempers are."

Bellatrix scoffed; where were women accepted in this damn society of theirs?! She wasn't allowed to work anywhere without a permission slip form her husband. Her father always had to accompany her into town if she wished to shop... This was getting ridiculous.

"I can prove myself," Bellatrix snapped, "Rosier, you've seen me with a wand."  
The man was always pestering her, and on several occasions, had seen the brunt end of her wand in return. He shifted awkwardly, "Just because you have some skills with a wand doesn't mean you are good enough for the Dark Lord."  
"He accepted you," Bellatrix snarled, her eyes narrowing, "So it looks as if he'll accept anyone with a bit of money."  
Lucius smirked, and he tapped his finger thoughtfully against his chin, "Fine."  
"What?!" Rodolphus hissed, shooting the blonde beside him a look, "You can't be serious."  
"Everyone should get a chance," Lucius said, his face returning to a serious expression, "The Dark Lord will want all of those talented enough on his side, whether they are man or woman."  
"I suppose," Rodolphus agreed grudgingly, taking a large gulp of his drink. Bellatrix grinned freely and raised an eyebrow, "Excellent. When and where?"  
"The graveyard by Keller's Field," Lucius replied, "One week from today. The Dark Lord will want to judge you before he accepts you."  
"Understandable," Bellatrix declared, trying not to shiver as a particularly cool breeze tickled her bare arms, "I'll be there then. Now if you'll excuse me, I need another drink to get through the rest of this party."

The four nodded politely and she swept away, a twisted smile tainting her lips. Back to the party, back to the light. But soon, one week to be exact, she would see how much darkness she could actually take.

"And just where were you?" her mother huffed when Bellatrix slid through the glass door, cringing as the shrill voice pierced her to the very core. She smiled a fake smile at her mother, "I needed some air."  
"You stink of smoke," her mother noted, glaring at Bellatrix harshly, "Go refresh yourself before people smell it."  
"Mother, people do smoke," she hissed, rolling her eyes, "I'm not the only one here."  
"My daughters do not smoke," her mother insisted, smiling as a couple passed by closely, obviously trying to catch a bit of the conversation.

Bellatrix was shoved in the direction of her room roughly, and she let out an irritated sigh, moving forcefully through the crowd. When she stopped on the stair, she noticed Evan and Lucius sweeping her sisters off their feet on the dance floor, Narcissa leaning up for a quick kiss every so often.  
Oh what masks they wore. Although, they were not the only ones.


	2. Join Me

"And where are you going, exactly?"

Bellatrix glanced back from her wardrobe, spying Narcissa leaning on her door with curiosity on her youthful features, "Mother said you aren't allowed to go out... Not what happened at the party."

Bellatrix grinned at the memory. One of her father's friends saw fit, in his drunk state, to begin fondling her behind while everyone was looking the other way. Completely appalled, she hexed him into a slug, which earned her a savage talking to from her father, and some hair pulling from her mother. However, she was relatively unharmed, and from what she had heard, so was the pervert who went out of his way to feel her.

Of course, Lucius and his dumb brutes wouldn't stop laughing as the slug squirmed around awkwardly on the floor, which put Bellatrix into deeper trouble, since her mother thought she had just done it as a joke. Stupid oafs.

"Just because that hag said I wasn't allowed to go out doesn't mean I'll listen," Bellatrix snorted, checking herself over in the mirror once. It wasn't as though she was nervous, but she didn't want to look bad in front of all these men that Lucius had informed her were attending that evening. She had pulled her lengthy black hair back, thinking it would be best to keep it off her face. Did she need a cloak? She had a plain black one, which may be useful, considering it was dark out, and she'd be able to sneak up on someone if she needed to.

Bellatrix wasn't really sure of what she would be doing that night, or how she would meet the Dark Lord, but she felt a little giddy. Seldom was she allowed to do something on her own, and to do something this important was an exhilarating feeling!

"Mother will skin you alive," Narcissa insisted, flicking some blonde hair over her shoulders and admiring her perfectly manicured nails, "And I'll not have one of my bridesmaids skinless when the day comes... It'll be bad taste."  
"Stop being like that," Bellatrix snapped, sliding into her loose cloak, hiding her form-fitted dress well. Narcissa pouted, "Like what, Bella?"  
"All... Like that!" Bellatrix fired back, motioning in her sister's direction, "Stop acting like a young version of mother... It's sickening."  
"I am not acting like mother," Narcissa sniffed, "And if you keep insulting me, I'll tell her you left."  
"Oh, go paint your nails, or something," Bellatrix snarled, snatching her wand from her bed, "Don't wait up."  
"Never do."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes and vanished from the comforts of her room within an instant, reappearing in Keller's Field, about a half an hour into the back country from her manor. She cocked an eyebrow when she noticed no one standing in the cemetery she had been instructed to visit. Had it all just been a set up? Not that there would have been any point to setting her up; what sort of joy would they honestly get making her apparate to a field?

She retrieved her wand from its holder in her cloak, then casually strode from the grassy field to the gates of the cemetery, peering inside cautiously. Where they all hiding behind the bloody gravestones or something?!

The gate groaned loudly as she pushed it open, then stepped onto the sacred ground, her suede boots thumping dully. She strode across the soil, plunking down on one of the lower gravestones and lighting up a cigarette, reading the name engraved in the faint spark of light.

Peter Hogens - Loving Father and Treasured Member of Our Town.

She snorted loudly, and just for the sake up it, dropped her cigarette and dug it into the earth with the heel of her boot. It's not like the filthy Muggle deserved any better.

"You know, that's considered awfully bad luck," Evan Rosier cooed as he and four other men, presumably his whole crew of arses, stepped out from behind some of the taller gravestones. Her eyes fell upon a fifth and sixth man that entered from the other side of the yard, all their faces covered with skull-like masks. She snorted, "Do you think I believe in those stupid superstitions? Honestly... He was only a Muggle."  
"Horrible luck to step on a man's grave, Bellatrix," Severus stated, almost in a matter-of-fact snooty tone, which caused her to scowl at his hunched figure, "Whether he be Muggle or Wizard."

She scoffed at him and pulled another cigarette out of her pocket, lighting it casually, "So what is this? I thought I was meeting the Dark Lord tonight."  
"No one of said you weren't," Lucius said curtly, "You don't think he'd just come out in the open, do you? It's not a business meeting."  
"I wasn't under the impression it was," Bellatrix snapped, her short temper getting the better of her.

All of their tones had a hint of babying, as if she needed the words said slowly to understand. A small smile appeared on Rodolphus's lips, but he said nothing, blending into the background with the other two men across the way. Bellatrix took a long drag of her cigarette, slowly looking around at the men with her. The corners of her mouth curled up, and she rolled her eyes, "This is boring."  
"One needs patience to serve the Dark Lord," Evan scolded, shaking his head at her. Her eyes narrowed, "Why'd he take you then?"  
The man had about as much patience as her mother, and she was worse then Bellatrix.  
Severus snickered and Evan sent him a look, and while it took him a moment or so, he sobered.  
"On your feet, Bellatrix."

She tossed her nearly spent cigarette on the ground and stomped it out, dramatically rising, "Come to compare heights again, Rosier? I know you're taller... I'm sure it helps that ego."  
"Duel me."  
"What?" she sniggered, raising both eyebrows in surprise, "Oh, come on, Rosier... You know I'm better then you."  
"Crucio!"  
She barely had time to defend herself, and when she finally shouted "Progeto!", the curse had only just been fired off in the opposite direction, blasting a stone into tiny pieces. She sneered at him, her breathing increasing slightly, "Gone to an Unforgivable straight away? I thought you were a better dueler!"  
"Immobulus!"

He was too ruddy quick for her, and he had side-stepped her curse, and in that instance, send a curse her way. It skimmed her left arm, but the collision sent her hurling back into a large gravestone, cracking her head against it harshly. She groaned and gingerly ran a finger along her skull, pulling it back to reveal a hand of blood.

"Come on, little girl," Evan taunted, twirling his wand between his fingers, "I doubt the Dark Lord would be impressed you were knocked over by such an easy spell."  
She glared at him, and when she tried to move her left arm, she found it was numb and heavy; completely useless.

Oh that sneaky bastard... He wanted it to hit her left arm, her wand-wielding arm, to weaken her in their duel. A large chunk of cement lay at her side, and Evan's eyes followed her as she switched wand hands, then pointed at the hunk of rock, "Oppugno!"

The large block flew off the ground and slammed into Evan's chest, sending him sprawling back onto the ground, gasping for breath. Bellatrix swiftly rose to her feet, and despite the dizziness, strode over to the wounded man forcefully, shoving one foot down onto his throat, "Petrific Totalus."

He froze in a somewhat fierce glare, and she smiled down sweetly, enjoying her small victory. Finally, she glared back at Lucius, "What was the point of bringing me here? I can beat Rosier at a duel on my own time!"

Then she heard it. A dull, slow clapping echoed behind her, and she whipped back, ready to hex the man into a thousand tiny pieces, whoever it was. It turned out to be one of the two unknown men in her presence, and her eyes narrowed. It was Him.

"Yes, yes it's me," his deep, murky voice purred out, bringing his hand up to his face and tossing aside the mask. The men around her dropped to their knees, some, like Severus, even touching their faces to the ground in submission. She, however, took a moment to study him.

His skin was blinding, nearly a pastel white in the darkness. When he drew his hood down, she spotted a head of brown hair, curly and thick. Apparently, he was old, older anyway, but his face gave off no hints. There were no wrinkles, no blemishes, no scars. Nothing but smooth skin, oddly eerie in its own right. There were no whites of his eyes, per say. They were bloodshot amongst the green, causing Bellatrix to shiver involuntarily.  
So this was who everyone was afraid of.

"Disappointed?" he inquired lightly, almost sounding amused. She smiled weakly and bowed her head, "Intrigued."  
She glanced up, catching his smirk as it briefly displayed on his lips. She silently wondered why she was meeting him, why he personally had come.  
"I always meet my new servants," he toned icily, circling her, his eyes traveling over her, "You're emotions are constantly on display. Hide them."  
Bellatrix frowned, and she heard him chuckle, "Like that. Though you are displeased, you should not let it show. That, little girl, shows weakness."

Yet another calling her that horrid name. She was not little!

"In my eyes you are," he laughed, finally returning in front of her, "Though you are their elder... They have no right to use the name."  
Ha. A triumphant smirk appeared on her face without meaning to, and he raised an eyebrow, "Pleased?"  
"That depends," she answered carefully, her tone smaller then his purposefully, "Am I allowed to be?"  
She noticed Lucius's eyes widen in shock from her right, and she couldn't help but feel just a little smug. Voldemort grinned, "Yes. You are. Rise."  
The men around her returned to their feet, and Voldemort stepped away, his cloak swirling around his feet with each step. He paused when he was a good distance away from the group, then whipped back sharply, "Why didn't you bring her to me sooner?"

Bellatrix flinched at his tone; commanding, yet cold, something that could slice through metal if he so wished. He released Evan Rosier from the curse Bellatrix had held him in, and Voldemort kicked off the stone, snarling for him to get to his feet.

Oh, she liked this character already. Anyone who made Evan Rosier look like a simpering girl was alright in her books.  
"We assumed you weren't interested in having a woman in the ranks," Rodolphus replied silkily. Voldemort's eyes darted over to him, and he glared relentlessly, "Why would I not want someone who can handle a wand?! Hmm?"  
There was silence, until several of them apologized quietly. Voldemort growled, a sound that vibrated in the pit of his throat, then waved them away, "Leave us... Tonight she joins the cause."

The cause? Oh, this was serious. She swallowed nervously as her men, her familiars, departed with a soft 'pop', and from that point on, she was definitely alone. As much as she hated to admit it, her confidence shattered the moment her security blankets, her boys, vanished into thin air.

"Why are you nervous now?" he inquired tightly when the last of them had vanished, "Familiarity comforts you, doesn't it."  
It most certainly did not! Never. Bellatrix raised her chin defiantly, "No, it does not."  
"Because we are in private, you may address me in such a tone," he remarked, his voice calm and collected, "But when you are summoned to perform a task, you will speak in the uttermost respect, is that clear?"  
And just who was he to tell her this? She was a Black, from the noble and most ancient house of Pure-

Before she could even finish her thought, she was on the ground, screaming in pain as the Cruciatus Curse ravaged her body. He was unforgiving, like the curse, his eyes traveling the open line of her cloak until he finally ended the curse.  
"I would not wear such revealing outfits to the next meeting, Ms. Black," he informed her, sneering her name with a hint of mockery. It had, after all, earned her such a punishment. She sat on the ground, her shoulders shaking in shock of what had just taken place.  
He walked around behind her, gently tapping his wand against her head and muttering a healing charm, closing the wound caused by Evan earlier that night. She felt dizzy again, clutching the gravestone beside her to keep herself balanced as she rose; loss of blood could do that to a person.

"Are you willing to serve my cause?" he asked bluntly, turning on her so suddenly that she squeaked uncharacteristically in surprise. His cause? What was his cause?  
"My cause to return this wizarding world back to how it was, once," he murmured silkily, "To give power back into the hands of the ones who deserve it, the ones who are Pure, as you pride yourself in. Of course, the power would ultimately go to me... But those who follow me... They would be rewarded beyond their wildest dreams."  
She frowned, swaying a little from her light head. He gripped her arm tightly, staring her down, "I can teach you what you crave. I can show you Dark Magic no one even dares to speak of anymore... Ah, yes, you're curious now. Come, come, Bellatrix Black, let me mentor you. I've taken so many under my watchful eye, all men... All the same. A woman, a new challenge for me, no doubt.  
I can teach you to mask your emotions, channel your inner darkness, and in the end... Make those men you loathe so much quiver at your feet. You'd like that sort of power... Wouldn't you?"  
"Yes," she answered, her voice sounding distant as she imagined it, "Yes, I would... Is it possible?"  
"Join me," he whispered, his face very close, "Fight for me, for my cause... And I will see that everything you want will happen."  
"Please..." she found herself mumbling, dropping to her knees once she had slid off the tombstone, "Show me."  
"Give me your arm," he instructed. She raised her arm and he turned it upside-down, gripping her wrist with sheer strength. Was he going to cut her?  
"A cut will barely last a week, little girl," he chided, drawing out his wand with his free hand, "This will last you a lifetime. Your last chance... Are you going to back away now?"  
She couldn't. While he had said his little speech, images flashed across her mind. Her elder self controlling those below her, performing complicated spells with ease, and her name feared by her community; it was intoxicating. A new drug that she wanted more of... That she craved.  
"I now live for one purpose," she answered, thrusting her arm up a little more, "My Lord."  
He smiled, the grin twisted and almost cruel as he pressed the wand against her pale wrist, murmuring a hiss under his breath.

Then she screamed. She screamed in pain. It was as if her entire soul was being torn from her, savagely ripped away, and leaving her hollow inside. As hard as she tried to keep them in, some tears rolled delicately down her cheeks, causing Voldemort to smile.  
When he pulled his wand away, she dragged her arm in close, cuddling it against her skin. However, it was no longer a painful sort of sting. No, no, she liked this sting. This silent burning into her skin; it felt good. Bellatrix peered down, her eyes widening at the tattoo he had branded her with.

"It will fade, for now," he explained. Her eyes stared down hard, watching as the skull, the small skull with a snake gliding through it, sunk into her skin, disappearing from sight.  
Leaning against the stone beside her, she slowed her breathing, finally returning to normal, "It's lovely."  
"Isn't it?" he mused, "You're the first to agree with me."

She chortled soundlessly and continued to stare down, almost wishing it would come back. He crouched down, pressing his wand lightly on her skin, bringing it back for her once more. Thin fingers ran over her skin, and she traced the new mark with affection.  
It felt so good to do this. This was right. No more little girl. She wasn't. She was going to serve the Dark Lord, rebel against her parents wishes (as if she already hadn't?) and put her own needs first, and foremost. This was the dawning of a new chapter in her life, one she would actually enjoy.

"When you feel it burn, I have called for you to meet," he stated, rising above her, "All you must do is touch your wand, and you will apparate to the appropriate meeting places. I will not assign you to murder just yet... You and I need to understand each other more. A few private lessons are in order before I send you out with my men... They've all had their training, and will not think twice about killing."  
"Nor would I," she argued, trying not to show the irritation in her voice, "I can do what a man does!"  
"First you must be taught the art of casting a killing curse," he chuckled, patting her head and turning away, "I'll send you a letter, little girl, in a few days time, with the place, time and date."  
"Yes, my Lord," she called, watching as he slowly melted into the darkness that surrounded him, leaving her alone against the stone, a thousand thoughts running through her head.


	3. Emotional Lessons

Bellatrix waited patiently for almost a week, wishing each morning to find a letter addressed to her from the Dark Lord. However, every time she checked the post, she found herself getting more and more disappointed that he had not written. Her father asked one morning why she was constantly rummaging through his mail, and she replied sweetly that she hoped someone would write to her. His response was enough to make her blood curl, and the sexist remark stuck with her for days, "Women don't need to check for letters... A man would inform her if she got something."

It was infuriating! Where could she go where she would be treated like a person, not some child that needed to be tended to and restricted!? She would change that, and not soon enough.

She sat one evening in the study on the third floor, her eyes skimming over a book her mother had given her to read. Apparently it had something to do with being a proper young lady and so on and so forth. The only chapter that Bellatrix was mildly interested in reading was the one about the sexual experience. She scoffed at the writers when she had finished, and concluded they had never had sex themselves. There were no details, it was vague, and nothing like Bellatrix's exploits during and after her final school year.

"Oh, Narcissa! Just... leave it alone!"

Bellatrix looked up as the middle Black sister stormed into the library, Narcissa close at her heels with an impish grin on her face, "You know it's true... Stop trying to deny it!"  
"Don't-"  
"What am I missing out on?" Bellatrix inquired, her tone slightly bored. Narcissa jumped, finally realizing her presence in the shadows, it seemed, then grinned, "Andy's cheating on Rosier already!"  
"I am not!"

Bellatrix glanced down at her book, wondering what to do; continue reading a book by eighty year old virgins, or listen in on her sister's affair? The latter sounded much more appealing.

"I walked in on her!" Narcissa exclaimed triumphantly, taking a stride closer to Bellatrix on the couch and pointing an accusing finger at her sister, "Talking all sweet and looking most in love with a man in the fireplace... You've never looked at dear Evan like that-"  
"Shut up!"

Bellatrix smiled, remaining silent as her sisters argued with each other. She had always preferred to watch from the shadows and take in their personalities as they bickered. Andromeda lost her temper so quickly, her face turning red and pupils dilate as she snarled at her challenger. Narcissa was always so cool and collected, usually looking unaffected by whatever was thrown at her. However, Bellatrix knew once the fight was over, her blonde sister went away somewhere private and fumed. This time was always the most fun for Bellatrix.  
Andromeda's temper, as bad as it was, could never match Bellatrix. She wouldn't deny her patience was short, and she made a habit of throwing things when she was in her fits of rage.

Finally, she had enough of her sisters argument, and slid off the couch, exiting the room without either paying her too much attention. Such petty fights were for people who had nothing better to do; Bellatrix had just seen an owl fly into her open window on the floor below.

When she was sure no one was watching, she broke off into a run, nearly tripping on the hem of her dress when she rounded the bottom stair and raced down the hall, locking herself into her room.  
A deep, black owl sat on her writing desk, a pale envelope beside it. She smiled and made her way over, gently picking up the rough parchment, then ripping it open, her hands as eager as her mind to get at the letter.

Ms. Black.  
I monitored your emotions over the past week. Shame. So much impatience... You'll need to be taught, I suppose. Women are a little more difficult then men.  
Apparate to Keller's Field. You'll find a portkey in the shape of a Muggle cross tied to the graveyard gate. Take it, and it will bring you to me.  
Your first lesson begins tonight.

It was distant, cold, yet for some reason, Bellatrix felt her skin glow with warmness. The owl watched her for a moment, as if he was waiting for a reply. She frowned, "Should I write back?"

The creature pecked down at a pen meaningfully, then returned to staring at her, it's blue eyes eerie, in a way. She grabbed a smooth piece of paper and quickly wrote, -Yes, my Lord.- , then stuck it into the letter carrier on the owl's foot. Within an instant, he was gone, only leaving behind a few feathers as evidence.

Did he want her immediately?! She moved swiftly to her closet, throwing her black robe on once more. He had last warned her against wearing an revealing clothes, but she couldn't help that; all of her clothes were revealing!

Grasping her wand, she apparated smoothly into Keller's Field, and moved with purpose to the graveyard gate, spying her cross waiting for her. So it was real. She was going to be taught by the Dark Lord that night.

Feeling a slight tug on her nasal cavity upon touching the cross, she was dragged into a black world, and spat out in an even darker one, losing her footing completely at the loss of the starlight. As she fell, she groped out for the wall beside her, but the feeling of slime and dirt upon her well-pampered skin, and she recoiled, cursing loudly.

"Tsk... Such foul words for such a lovely lady."  
Her head whipped up, and she stopped wiping her hands on her cloak, her eyes searching the darkness for Him, "My Lord?"

He murmured something under his breath and suddenly the room was filled with light, torches bursting violently to life over her, the sparks tumbling down. Bellatrix took one look at the room and gagged. There was blood smeared along the walls, dirt cluttering up the floor, and a distinct odor of death wafting in the still air. A rat scuttled out from a hole, but a snake shot out from a shadow and swallowed it whole, the rat leaving the world of the living with a small squeak.

"I hope you don't mind pets," Voldemort purred, looking back affectionately at the snake, "Nagini won't be staying for our lessons, I promise."  
The serpent slithered out into the light for a short moment, then went into another one of the countless holes in the walls, leaving the pair of humans alone. Bellatrix swallowed down the vomit that threatened to rise at the very look of the place, then forced a smile, "She's very nice... looking."  
"I'm sure she thinks so, too," he chuckled, throwing his arms out and motioning to the room in which they stood, "My classroom... As you can see, my students have reeked their own havoc in here with the victims Nagini finds them." He paused, "She always likes finding victims. Such a good pet."

Bellatrix nodded, finally composing herself enough to focus on what he was saying. He was very dramatic, this Voldemort.  
"Tonight, we practice the art of the Cruciatus curse," he informed her, drawing out his wand, which caused her to flinch, but only slightly. His deep chuckles echoed in the large room, and she felt a little nervous as he grinned, "I'm not going to do it to you... Unless your ignorant Pureblood mouth gets you into trouble. I trust it won't?"  
Bellatrix gritted her teeth and glared, "No, no my Lord, it won't."  
"Your emotions betray you already!" he exclaimed, rolling his eyes and sheathing his wand, "Perhaps tonight we'll just need to work on them."  
"No!" she cried, somewhat desperately. He cocked an eyebrow and she quickly fumbled for words, trying to sound like Narcissa in a fight, cool and collected, "I just... I'm so excited to learn the Cruciatus. Do I need my emotions under control to perform it?"

All she was doing was pointing her wand and saying the curse! Why did she need to be so composed?

"You need to truly mean the Cruciatus," he explained placidly, folding his hands behind his back and pacing in front of her, "You need to long to give someone pain. Emotions such as hate, anger, passion... They are useful during this curse. Not like the Avada."

Her eyes widened; would he personally teach her the killing curse?  
"You need full concentration for the Avada Kedavra," he finished softly, his eyes traveling over her body, "I told you not to wear dresses like that."  
"You said at meetings not to dress like this," she argued lightly, closing her cloak with one hand, "You never said anything about lessons."  
He watched her, ever so thoughtfully, then smirked, "No one argues with me."  
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, remembering what trouble her comments had gotten her. She felt so weak to be frightened by thirty seconds of the Cruciatus Curse, but it was such intense pain. While it felt good later that night, she wasn't in the mood for it today.

"I like it when you argue," he stated, "But within reason."  
"Of course."  
"I've learned to perform this curse without truly meaning it," he explained, his boots soft against the filthy floor, "And I can make it painful with a mere murmur of the word, as you found out."  
She nodded for him to go on, "But you are young, and your emotions are still running wild. Channeling them will help bring the curse to it's fullest potential."  
"I understand."  
A rat scampered out from a hole and Voldemort flicked his wand at it lazily, freezing it where it stood. Bellatrix waited, and when he noticed her watching, he made a dramatic step to the side, motioning to the animal, "The Cruciatus, if you please?"  
"Oh."

She gripped her wand firmly in her left hand, her eyes focused on the rat. Voldemort released it from its spell, and it scurried for darkness quickly, "Crucio!"

Her spell only just missed the rat, causing the creature to lose its balance and slam into the wall. She bit her lip in frustration, this time hitting it square on. It squeaked and writhed in pain, but Bellatrix kept the spell going, trying not to pay attention as Voldemort walked around her, his eyes piercing her, "Oh come, Bellatrix... I thought Purebloods were taught to use this curse when they were children. Were you forgotten?"  
Her temper flared, but she kept from sneering something at him, instead, taking it out on the rat before her.  
"More, your rage is so..." he chuckled softly, moving in closer to her, "Weak."

Bellatrix gritted her teeth, ended the curse, then began again, this time, a little more effective by his comments. He kept jabbing at her, pushing her closer and closer to just turning on him and torturing him! No one talks to a Black like that!

"It's an animal..." he sneered, finally very close to her, "Surely a Black can kill an animal..."  
Her eyes were trained on the rat, its fur starting to smoke from the intensity. Voldemort finally added, "But I suppose I can't expect too much from a woman."

That did it. Before she could stop herself, her curse became so powerful that she caused the rat to explode, its blood splattering the wall.  
Voldemort paused behind her and her arm fell to her side; she never knew this curse was so deadly.  
"A human will not explode," he whispered, his arm shooting past her right shoulder and freezing another rat, "Now... Again."

She spent nearly two hours torturing rats, her mind dizzy with death and power. He explained to her the fundamentals of the Cruciatus Curse, and how to change a victim's state of mind while using it. All the information went straight to her head, and she swallowed it in, lavishing herself with it. She wanted more. More things to learn. More things to curse.

"Enough for tonight," he said finally as the last rat lay dead on the floor, Voldemort's snake coming out of her hiding for another meal, "You've impressed me, Bellatrix. You are quite adequate with the curse."  
She had almost expected him to ask how a woman, or a girl, could know such dark things, but he didn't. He just seemed content that she knew what she was doing, and left it at that.

"Kneel down, Bellatrix."  
She glanced down at the dirty stone at her feet, then collapsed to her knees, a little exhausted from using the curse for so long. He held his hand out, a thick, black ring on his finger, "As custom, a servant may kiss their master's ring before leaving."

Her slim fingers gripped his palm and pulled it closer, gently pressing her lips against the ring. It was cold, hard, much to the contrast of his hand. She wanted to hold it for longer, explore the very hand that held a wand with such elegance and class. But, she let go the moment she kissed the ring, her hands resting in her lap.

Voldemort grinned and cupped her chin, roughly turning her head up, "You learn things quickly, little girl. I don't think we'll need too many lessons."  
"I value every one," she whispered earnestly, hoping he would ask her for just a little while longer. His grip tightened suddenly and she winced, wondering what she had done wrong. He shook his head, "Don't think such thoughts. You're next lesson will be sooner then you think."  
She smiled, despite the fact her face was started to throb, "Thank you."

How does he-

"Your mind is an open book," he muttered, releasing her chin, but one finger still arching her up to look at him, "I've skill in breaching minds... You're so open to me. Next time we'll learn how to keep prying minds out, hmm?"  
It didn't sound as interesting, or as fun, as practicing another curse, but Bellatrix nodded, knowing that whatever he would teach her would help her in some way.  
"Leave now," he ordered, breaking the contact and turning away, his robe billowing in her face, "I'll send you a letter once more for our next lesson... It will be a different owl, this time."  
Smart.  
"Thank you."

Bellatrix watched his back as he strode off, the sound of a heavy door opening, then slamming shut played over in her ears for hours. Even as she finished her bath and crawled into her warm bed, the damp feel of her classroom clung to her. The way his skin was so warm... It made her tingle.  
She sprawled out on her bed, her mind eagerly imagining what she would learn next.


	4. Rodolphus

"Bellatrix?! Get down here... You have a guest!"

Bellatrix looked up from her book and frowned, wondering who in their right mind would come see her. She didn't have very many friends, and if she was perfectly frank, she didn't want any.

It was almost one in the afternoon, and she had only just retired to her room after lunch, which was some odd French dish her mother thought would taste good.  
The mere sight of the food was enough to make Bellatrix throw up, not to mention the horrific smell.

It had been two days since her lesson with Voldemort, and she was very eager to get back into his classroom and work with him again. Could he be the one that had come to see her?  
Impossible, but possible, all at the same time.  
She quickly checked her hair in the mirror, then scrambled down to the first floor staircase, stopping dead when she spotted the man standing in her entrance.

"What the bloody Hell are you doing here, Lestrange?" she snapped, glaring at Rodolphus Lestrange as he stood calmly with her mother, who looked absolutely furious.  
He cocked an eyebrow and her mother instantly began patting his arm and batting her eyelashes, "Oh, she's just a little fussy today. Don't mind our Bella..."  
"Oh, really, Mrs. Black," he chuckled, pulling his gloves on over his large hands, sounding somewhat amused, "I'm quite used to Bellatrix's mood swings. We've known each other long enough."  
"That you have," her mother beamed, stroking his arm, "I'm surprised you haven't stepped forward sooner, if it's not too rude to say."

Bellatrix's dark eyes darted between the pair, utterly confused with the proceedings. What was she talking about? What in Merlin's name was he talking about?!

"Come here, Bellatrix darling," her mother beckoned, waving her down the staircase, "I have wonderful news."  
"Oh?" Bellatrix asked coldly, eyeing her mother and frowning; why was she being so... tolerable to Bellatrix? What was happening?!  
"Rodolphus has asked if he may accompany you to Andromeda's wedding this weekend!" she practically gushed, giving Rodolphus's arm a squeeze, "Isn't it wonderful?"  
Her mouth felt dry, and her gaze turned sharply on Rodolphus, her eyes narrowing by the second, "Why?!"  
"Bellatrix Druella Black! You watch your mouth!"  
Bellatrix gagged inside; she hated being called by her middle name, her mother's name. It was almost as degrading as her sexist father; it meant she was still a child.

"Oh, come now, Bellatrix," Rodolphus mused, smiling down at her, "Don't you want a date for the next gathering? People will start to talk if you show up alone... again. I'm doing you a favour."  
This was a new low. She listened, completely frozen as her mother made plans for them to meet up once or twice before the wedding date, just so that they actually looked like a couple if anyone saw them. Bellatrix raised her chin, her eyes defiant, yet her voice soft, "Mother, may I have a moment with Mr. Lestrange?"  
Her mother, for a second, seemed at loss for words, then finally smiled, "Of course, darling. Good afternoon, Rodolphus."  
"Mrs. Black."

Bellatrix waited until her mother was completely out of sight, and even a few moments longer until she knew she was out of earshot. Furiously, she moved closer to Rodolphus, "What the bloody Hell are you playing at?!"  
"I'm not playing at anything," he snapped, his voice too losing its kindness and charm, "I'm interested in dating you."  
"Just like I'm happy Lucius and Evan are going to be family by the end of the month."  
"I never knew you cared."

Her hand raised, threatening to rake across his face, but she forced it back down to her side, "Be truthful... What do you want?!"  
"Well, it's obviously not the pleasure of your company," he sneered, rolling his eyes and smoothing his black hair back, "I am more interested in your estate, Bellatrix Black..."  
"How did I not guess?" she snarled coldly, folding her arms, "My father-"  
"Is desperate to get rid of you," he finished for her, "He was placing such large hints at the lodge... Hoping some wealthy man, any man, would come and take his eldest, unwed daughter off his hands."  
"How dare you!" she shrieked, her breathing slowly quickening, "It's my choice whether I accept someone or not!"  
He snorted loudly and rolled his eyes, "The way your mother was fondling over me, I'm surprised she didn't marry us right here and now."  
"My mother is a simpering fool, if you haven't noticed," Bellatrix fired back lazily, finally feeling her temper fade, "You can't take her too seriously. She'll get bored of you soon, and then she'll try and find me someone new. You'll see."  
"We will see, Bellatrix," he purred, suddenly reaching out and sharply grasping her wrist, dragging her hand up to his lips and kissing it, "Until we meet again."

He apparated out of the room just in time, causing her nails to rip into air. That idiotic, stuffed up git! How dare he speak to her like that?! How dare he handle he like that!

She stormed back to her room, slamming the door with such force that a picture in the hallway crashed down to the floor, much to the occupants shock. For several minutes, and what seemed like hours, she flung things around her room. Books, vases, pictures. Anything she could find to help her vent her anger. When she finally ceased, she noticed a very shocked looking owl sitting on her window, almost looking hesitant to come inside.

"No, no, come in," she called, her voice hoarse from the few angry screams she had recently vocalized. The creature flocked inside and landed on her desk, depositing the letter, then taking off again, not waiting for her to reply this time. Bellatrix picked up the envelope, her hands still shaking from her rage, and she ripped it open, her eyes skimming the tidy writing.

-I was going to wait until tonight, but it seems you are in need of some lessons on anger management. I will not tolerate anger spells, like the one you just did.  
See me immediately.-

She stared down at the paper for a moment, frowning. Had she just been scolded over a letter? Even her mother sent Howlers when she was cross with her.

A little shocked, she threw her cloak on over her shoulders, grabbed her wand, then apparated into the dingy classroom again. Since she had been to it once, and it had left a rather vivid mark on her mind, she was able to get there again without a portkey.

The smell of the wretched place was the first thing that met her. It smelled of death, torture, and Him. For some reason, she could smell Him tonight. There was a rich, spicy scent floating in the air.

"I was in need to go somewhere public," he voiced from the shadows. She whipped back, watching him push off the wall he had been leaning on and he added, "Don't think I made myself all pretty for you, little girl."  
"I didn't think that," she admitted, her eyes traveling over his body, somewhat in admiration.

He was not garbed in the usual black robe she had seen, but instead, adorned in fine clothes, regal silks and deep colours. It was all still black, which suited him, but now he would have fit in with the most upper of the Pureblood class. He almost didn't look like a Dark Lord anymore.

"Appearances are deceiving," he droned, clasping his hands in front of his body, his eyes narrowing, "I could almost feel the hissy fit you threw... Pray, what sparked that?"  
She looked down at her feet, suddenly feeling sheepish at how juvenile it seemed to be angry over some man. Bellatrix cleared her throat, "Something stupid."  
"Ah," he chuckled, a tingling sensation tickling the back of her head, "I see Rodolphus paid you a visit."

How did he keep doing that? Another important question... Why? Bellatrix fumbled with the sleeve of her robe, then moved over to him, kneeling directly at his feet, "Can you teach me to do that?"  
"Legilimency?" he mused, gazing down at her through dark eyes, "Are you strong enough?"  
"Yes," she answered swiftly, inching forward on her knees, "Please... Please, my Lord."  
"Bellatrix Black, on her knees and begging," he murmured, his lips curling into a sneer, "I must inform my men Hell has frozen over."

She ground her teeth together, but stopped instantly when he started to laugh, knowing she had lost control of her anger in his presence, again. Voldemort patted her cheek lightly as he strolled past her, his heavier boots making more noise in the dark room. Bellatrix looked around quickly, trying to find some source of light besides the torches. However, when she noticed there were no windows to give some sort of hint there was daylight, she smiled; it was such a lovely room, after all.

"I was planning on giving you a lesson today," he stated, not bothering to turn around and look at her, "But I fear that your state of mind is too frazzled by your emotions, and would just allow me to look at your memories, you defenseless against any intrusions."  
"I'm not weak," Bellatrix argued, rising from her knees and staring at his back, "My Lord... I am not the weak little girl that you hope I am."  
"I hope for nothing."

There was a breif silence, until he finally turned back and ordered her to get out her wand, then brace herself. Barely able to register, she fumbled for a tighter grip on the piece of wood in her hands, when she was suddenly assaulted with the most unusual feeling; she could see things.  
Just small snatches of memories, and she knew he could see them too.

Her father giving her a severe beating for stealing when she was nine.  
She was eleven, after her first year of schooling, and lit Andromeda's hair on fire.  
She was in a fight with a boy at school, someone she could no longer remember. Her lip was bloody and large.  
She was graduating, a determined look of hope in her eye.

Bellatrix fumbled to point her wand at Voldemort, her vision becoming hazy. It was difficult to see him, and it was even worse to get her mouth to move and send a defensive spell his way.

She was standing aside, watching her family members fawn over a new baby Narcissa.  
She was pointing a wand at her mother's rose bush, blasting it into countless pieces.  
She was being pushed onto a bed by one of her many lovers during her late teen years, a look of boredom on her face.

Her eyes widened; he, of all people, couldn't see anymore memories like that. She tried to aim her wand, and finally blurted out, "Expelliarmus!"

The memories stopped, but she suddenly felt a great deal weaker, and it took all of her effort to stay on her feet, even though she was swaying about dangerously.

"Quite an interesting life you've led, little girl," he chuckled, pocketing his wand, "You see... It isn't as easy as it looks. But, to learn how to do it... That is a completely different story."  
"You saw everything?" she inquired, her voice sounding slightly strained, her throat dry. Voldemort grinned, "I almost pity your parents... And sister. Devil of a child, you were."  
"No one would pay attention to me after my sisters were born," she admitted, suddenly fighting the urge to slap her hand over her mouth. How could she tell him that?! She'd never told anyone in her life that she had felt neglected as a child. It would show weakness to admit something like that...

Maybe she was weak.

"You are not weak, Bellatrix," he stated, almost in a comforting tone, which instantly returned back to his usual lecture voice, "But... You need to be stronger. Strength doesn't lie in your ability to toss things around and make noise. You need to have inner strength, composure in times of dire stress."  
"I've always had a temper," she sighed, more to herself then him, "It'll be hard to break."  
"Challenges are meant to be overcome," he snapped, brushing her off with a wave of his hand, "Don't think like that, Bellatrix, or you'll never get anything done. And if you can't get anything done, what use are you?"  
"I... I have uses," she fumbled, raising her wand and taking a deep breath, "Let's try again."  
"No," he chuckled, "No, not again. Not today, anyway. I do, however, have a book for you to read."

Bellatrix raised an eyebrow and he held up a finger, silently asking her to wait a moment. He vanished into the shadows, and she heard the door opening, but not shutting completely. There was this deep, aching urge for her to follow, to see what else was outside her classroom. Was he in a normal house like the rest of society? Or was he a hermit, residing in a small, or large, shelter in the middle of a forest. The more she tried to guess, the more she wanted to know.

Her wonderings were cut short when she heard the door slam and Voldemort emerged from the darkness, a thick book clutched in his right hand.  
"It's a book of Legilimency," he informed her, thrusting it into her hands, "Study it... I may test you the next time we meet."  
"I am to try Legilimency on you?" she asked in disbelief, not even looking down at the book, "My Lord... I... I couldn't. I'm sure you're far too skilled for me."  
"True," he chuckled, his eyes locking in with hers, "Doesn't mean you can't try."

Bellatrix guessed they were finished, and she dropped to her knees, waiting for him to hold his hand out. He paused for a moment or so, his green eyes still watching her, until he finally extended his hand. However, it was not close enough that she could simply lean up and kiss his ring, so she clutched it, sitting up a little more on her knees, the book forgotten beside her. His hands were warm again, and looked cleaner. Long, elegant fingers curved around her petite hands and her lips quivered when she brought them close to the ring, pressing them against it softly. It felt as if this happened in slow motion, but before she knew it, he had released her hand, and she was rising to her feet, collecting the book as she went.

"Everyday, for the rest of this week, at nine," he ordered, touching her cheek before turning away, his robes once again flowing around him, "Don't be late, little girl."

When Bellatrix had finally apparated back into her bathroom, she pressed a hand against her head, a headache arriving at the sound of her mother banging against the door, "Bellatrix Druella Black! This is the last time I'm calling you! Come out!"  
"Mother, I don't feel well, go away," she snapped, stuffing the book into a towel, then tossing it into the shower, "I think I'm going to have a bath."  
"Weren't you listening to me, girl?!" she snarled, turning the locked door fiercely, "I brought Rodolphus back, and you will apologize for your behavior!"  
"I will not!"

Before she knew it, the elder Black had blasted down her door, strode in, grabbed her by the ear, and was dragging her out of her room. When Bellatrix truly took the time to notice, she saw there was a lot more broken bits of items then she had seen before. When one gets into a fit of rage, one tends to not remember everything clearly...  
However, Bellatrix did remember that rude snot of a man, the very same who was sitting in the study closest to her room, sipping a glass of brandy. He looked up and smiled warmly, "Oh, hello Bellatrix... Fancy seeing you again."  
"Make it right," her mother hissed in her ear before shoving her into the room, then shutting the door softly, locking her inside with a pig.  
"My mother did it all," Bellatrix snapped, stalking across the room, closing in on him quickly, then snatching the glass of alcohol away and settling down on the couch. He clucked his tongue loudly as she chugged it back in one shot, slamming it down on the foot table in front of the pair, "What?!"  
"I've never seen women drink like that when they know a man is watching," Rodolphus chuckled, sounding more amused in private then he had during their first meeting. Bellatrix rolled her eyes and let out a sigh, "I'm supposed to 'make things right'... Stupid cow."  
"Me?"  
"Both of you," she sniped, glaring at him, "And I have an awful headache... So if you think-"  
"It's not like I wouldn't have taken you to the wedding," he stated, cutting her off, "You're mother is paranoid."  
"She wants to get rid of me so bad," Bellatrix chuckled, feeling a little strange. The alcohol had not been a good mix with the recent spells cast on her, and with her apparation only moments ago, she was feeling dizzy and warm at the same time.

"It took her a while to fetch you," he stated, cocking an eyebrow, "Where were you?"  
She sighed, running a hand through her hair, deciding she needed to sober up. However, there was a smug air to her now.  
"I was with the Dark Lord."  
His face instantly went numb, or so it appeared, then tightened, his eyes narrowing, "No you weren't."  
"I was... We have private lessons, him and I."  
"Really?"

Why did he sound so shocked? Bellatrix frowned and looked over at him. His hair was a little messier then the last time she had seen him, which was less then an hour ago, and his fine robes were still pressed and tucked in, then dark green and black matching wonderfully with his hair and complexion. He was handsome, yes, but still a disgusting, sexist git who Bellatrix was determined to make suffer at every chance she got.

"He's never given anyone private lessons," Rodolphus stated, almost spitefully, "All of us had lessons at the same time... And usually in pairs or small groups."  
Bellatrix smirked; oh, she could definitely gloat, "He gave me a book and everything to learn from... We get on really well."  
"He's just happy to have someone who knows how to perform a few spells on his side," Rodolphus snarled, rising quickly and buttoning up his cloak, "You can tell your bloody mother that we 'made up', and that I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow night."  
"What?" Bellatrix remarked, her eyebrows knitting together, "We're not... We're not going on a sodding date!"  
"I'm getting you out of the house for an evening," he announced, rolling his eyes, "A free dinner and evening away from your parents... Won't it be your perfect evening, or something?"

That would have been her perfect evening... No anymore though. Her perfect night would be spending it just listening to Voldemort lecture her. His voice was so hypnotic and deep... It gave her chills just thinking about it.

But, she was sure he wouldn't let her stand there and gawk at him as he talked, so that little fantasy was instantly dashed.

For now, Bellatrix would need to be happy with Rodolphus for getting her away from her bloody family. So, she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms defensively across her chest, "Make it six... The Dark Lord and I are meeting at nine. The restaurant better be expensive, and there better be some sort of alcoholic drink. Understood?"  
"Your wish is my command, m'lady," he drawled sarcastically, shooting her a sneer before apparating away from her sight. She released a sigh and sunk back into the couch, summoning the entire bottle of brandy and popping off the top, taking a large chug.

Her life was suddenly so hectic. Before, she would spend her days sleeping in until noon, and maybe taking another nap in the afternoon between going for walks around the estate and reading up on dark magic. Now... Now she had two new men in her life. Two that weren't going anywhere.


	5. Snakes and Specialities

Bellatrix pulled the V-neckline up a little bit, frowning when it slid back down to reveal an ample amount of cleavage. Changing her dress wouldn't have made a difference, since nearly all of her dresses had low necks, and were rather alluring.  
However, she did not want Rodolphus bloody Lestrange thinking she was trying to seduce him, so she pushed up her thick hair into a sloppy-sort bun and smirked; perfect. Of course, she did want to look somewhat decent for her lesson with Voldemort that evening, but not too decent, since Lestrange didn't deserve much better.

Oh, but the very idea of spending every evening with the Dark Lord just made her giddy. The way the power truly flowed from his very being, the magnificent manner in which he composed himself...

She could barely contain her excitement at the thought of him teaching her the killing curse.  
It was the exact time Rodolphus said he would be there to pick her up, but she figured she would make him wait a little longer. The proper woman would have been at the bottom of the staircase, waiting for him to sweep her off her feet. However, she would never, and did not want to be, the proper woman, and figured it would be amusing to make him wait for a little while.

After a quick glance in the mirror, she supposed she looked ... presentable. Self-compliments were always hard for her to find, but she rather liked the make-up she had done that evening; it made her eyes seem wilder, darker. Her dress was tight fitting, the usual, and revealed her curves with ease. Most of her dresses were like this, and she no longer felt any shame to wear them. Pox on whatever anyone else thought of her. She was Bellatrix Black, and could dress how she pleased. The way the dark material clung to her body made her almost alluring... Would the Dark Lord notice? She would not be able to carry her heavy cloak that she normally wore.

After making him wait for atleast twenty minutes, Bellatrix threw a shawl over her shoulders, then made her way downstairs, a haughty smirk on her pale face. However, when she made her way into the entrance hall, she was furious to notice Rodolphus was not there. Infact, he was not even in the house!

She paced back and forth across the hall, glancing at the clock every so often, then let out an angry growl when she noticed another ten minutes had gone by.

"Did I keep you waiting?"  
In her rage, Bellatrix had not even noticed Rodolphus apparate into the room, and his voice actually managed to startle her. She whipped back, her eyes narrowing at his handsome form, "You're late!"  
"I knew you would be too," he chuckled sadistically, almost enjoying her anger, "So I thought it would best if we were both late... Makes things even."  
"I was, what, twenty minutes late, tops!" Bellatrix sneered, tossing the fallen shawl over her shoulder, "And now with that extra ten you spent 'getting even', I'm sure we've lost the dinner reservation."  
"I didn't make a reservation," he remarked. Her eyes instantly caught his gloved hand smoothing down the front of his fine, black cloak, and she noticed the way his small beard moved each time he spoke.  
Looking down her nose at him, she snorted, "Where are we eating then? A tavern?"  
He raised a dark eyebrow, "Oh come, would I stoop to that level?"  
Bellatrix opened her mouth to snap something back, but he cut her off with a sigh, "I know the owner at the Witches Hat... He always has a table saved for me."

The Witches Hat? Bellatrix was genuinely impressed, considering that was one of the most high-class wizarding restaurants in downtown London. She squared her shoulders, "I suppose that will do."  
"Shall we then?" he inquired lightly, though his eyes portrayed his evident irritation with her, "Don't want you to be late for your meeting with Him."  
"Neither do I," she fired back, strolling over confidently and taking his arm, "Lead the way, Lestrange."

Bellatrix was confident by nature, and pretending to be calm in a situation like this was her specialty.  
But, apparently, it was also his specialty, which was slightly unnerving.

A joint-apparation was never enjoyable, but it was nice to have someone to lean once the process was finished with, otherwise Bellatrix definitely would have lost her footing. Her eyes fell upon a well lit restaurant, the elegant writing depicting The Witches Hat across the entrance. Bellatrix flicked her black shawl back ones more, "Looks... presentable."  
"How kind of you to admit," Rodolphus droned, walking leisurely inside, Bellatrix still on his arm, "They have the best fish."

As the door was opened by a pair of attendants, Bellatrix glanced around her 'date' and her eyes widened, "An open bar!"  
"Bellatrix," he hissed, shooting her a warning look when a couple who were retrieving their cloaks turned in their direction, "Control yourself, Black. We're somewhere with style."  
"Must be a new thing for you," she whispered under her breath, shooting the young waiter a sly smile as he led the couple to their table on the second floor, up beside one of the windows. Bellatrix allowed the man to tuck her in, then place a napkin on her lap, his hands taking the extra time to smooth it out.

"Watch the hands, boy," Bellatrix snapped, causing him to instantly step away. Rodolphus chuckled across the table and shook his head, "Now, now, Bellatrix. Just because he's randy and you're in a dress that makes the women on the street corners look like nuns, doesn't mean you need to be rude."  
Her eyes narrowed at him and the waiter excused himself from the awkward tension. With a dignified smile, she reached for her menu, "You're a pig."  
"You're a tramp," he fired back, his smile equally as laced with venom. Perhaps she had overlooked Rodolphus; he was a worthy opponent.  
"So tell me," he croaked after ordering the most expensive wine on the menu, "What do you and the Dark Lord do?"  
Bellatrix leaned back in her chair, her bare shoulders slightly chilled by the cool room, "What do you think? We shag."  
"I wouldn't put it past you."  
"I'm joking."  
"Obviously."  
"He teaches me things," Bellatrix whispered as the wine was delivered. She waited as the waiter poured their wine, and she still remained silent until they had both had their sips. Finally, she grinned, "Dark things, Rodolphus, very dark things."  
"Matches a dark mind," he noted, making a mock toast before going over his menu.

They continued their evening with conversations riddled with hidden meanings, and silent insults, all the while, Bellatrix found herself having some fun, despite the fact the man bothered her. He was a lot like Lucius. They were both haughty and smug, but there was a subtle quality to Rodolphus that Lucius lacked.  
He had suggested the fish, but she chose duck. He ordered his well done and cooked to perfection, while she asked for hers to be a little raw, the way she liked it. While he usually tried to avoid some sort of argument, Bellatrix enouraged them, almost to the point where he was ready to curse her. However, it was interesting.

Once their meal was finished, and the bottle of wine gone, Bellatrix sat in a comfortable silence, staring out the window, until Rodolphus finally cleared his throat pointedly. Her eyes darted across the table and she glared, "What?!"  
"I thought you were meeting the Dark Lord for nine."  
She frowned and searched the hall for a clock, finding one, and her as she did, her stomach dropped; it was nearly nine thirty.  
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?!" she demanded, rising up quickly and tossing her napkin down, "I need to go!"

Stupid bastard could have said something sooner! Did he want her to get hexed by the most powerful man in England!?

She scuttled around the table, then growled when he caught her arm. Instead of sneering something at her, he pulled her down into a kiss, not caring who was watching. Her eyes remained open, as did his, and she glared at him, before finally pushing at his chest and stumbling back, wiping her lips, "Ugh."  
"You're welcome for dinner," he murmured, sending her a slight smile, "I'll see you at the wedding."  
"Get stuffed," she snarled, hurrying out of the restaurant so quickly anyone watching would have thought the building had caught fire. After snatching her shawl from the attendant and retrieving her wand, she completed a sloppy apparation into her classroom. With heavy breathing, she made a full circle in the darkness, searching for him, "My Lord? Please... I'm so sorry I'm late!"

Silence. She gulped anxiously, and when finally spotted him leaning against his usual spot on the wall, she dropped to her knees, "I'm so sorry, I-"  
"What are you wearing?"

She let out a soft sigh of relief, noticing his voice sounded more confused then angry, "Oh, Rodolphus took me out to dinner and I had to dress nicely."  
"Lestrange?" he asked, still shrouded by shadow, but his voice revealing a hint of shock. Bellatrix rolled her eyes, "My mother is making us date."  
"Of course she is," he laughed coldly, pushing off the grimy wall and stalking toward her, "That's the way mothers are, aren't they?"

His hand threaded into her hair and he wrenched her head back, causing her to let out a gasp, her neck completely exposed. To her shock, he started to hiss something, a foreign language that almost sounded poetic to her ears. Something scaly slid over her hand and she jumped, her neck aching from being held back.

"I told you not to be late," he purred, smiling as Bellatrix released a whimper. A snake had now wound itself around her torso, and was slowly moving up her body, its tongue flicking out to taste her every so often.  
"This is my darling Nagini," he whispered, kneeling down beside Bellatrix, his mouth next to her ear, "She doesn't like to be kept waiting... What should I allow her to do? Squeeze the life out of you? She's done it before..."  
Bellatrix felt the snake's body tightening around hers, and she let out a small cry, her hand grasping for his cloak, "I'm sorry-"  
"Or should I let her bite your pretty neck, Bellatrix?" he murmured, running his free hand over her flesh, "Her bite is deadly... It'd be such a waste."  
"I didn't know the time," she pleaded, "Otherwise I would have been here earlier then nine! I swear it!"

He clucked his tongue at her, then hissed something else, causing the snake to drop off her abruptly and slither off into one of the numerous holes in the walls. With some difficulty, she swallowed and glanced over at him; did he know? Snakes frightened her. Horribly so, not that she would admit it.

She was cornered once as a child by a snake that got into the manor, and it bit her on the leg, which sent her into a sea of fevers and sickness for weeks on end. Ever since, even though her house animal was a snake, she had made a conscious effort to stay away from the creatures.

"I suppose a dinner with Rodolphus Lestrange was punishment enough," he finally muttered, standing up and tossing her aside, "Don't let it happen again, little girl."  
"I'm so sorry," she insisted, turning over onto her hands and knees and crawling toward him, kissing the hem of his cloak, "I'll never be late again."  
"I'll hold you to it," Voldemort cooed, smiling down at her vilely, "Because I will enjoy hearing you scream again, Bellatrix... And I'll not let an opportunity pass."  
"Of course, my Lord."

Bellatrix scrambled to her feet, keeping her head bowed in respect, "May I ask you a question?"  
"Hmm?"  
"Rodolphus said..." she felt a little uncomfortable with the question, almost nervous for what the answer would be, "He said you didn't give anyone else private lessons. Why do I have them?"  
He looked her over thoughtfully, his mysterious eyes making her shake slightly. Finally, he replied, "You're special, Bellatrix. Different... But special."


	6. Marriage

Bellatrix looked down at the cream coloured dress she had been stuffed into and let out a frustrated growl.  
Just because she was a bridesmaid didn't mean she needed to resemble the bride in anyway. The skirt was poofy, and there were short little sleeves going half-way down her arms. Anyone with taste would have realized these dresses were hideous, but of course, her mother had no taste.

Today Andromeda was no longer going to be a Black. Instead, she would belong to Evan Rosier, as would her inheritance and her power in the community. The Rosiers were gaining, in Bellatrix's opinion, and the Blacks were losing out on a very intelligent young woman. Another reason Bellatrix was against the wedding, besides the fact it was to Evan sodding Rosier, was that now there would only be she and Narcissa in the house, along with her parents. That being said and noted, Narcissa would push for her marriage with Lucius to commence sooner then expected, and then Bellatrix would be alone. Alone with her parents. Merlin, it was her worst fear.

Guests were arriving, since her mother insisted on having the wedding at their home in the gardens, but Bellatrix stayed up in her room, firmly reminding herself that Rodolphus would be somewhere, looking for her no doubt.

"What are we wearing?!" Narcissa hissed from the doorway, suddenly flying inside and slamming the door, "I look like a cloud!"  
Narcissa was a little taller, but the dress made her seem like a mass of cream and white, with her fair hair, and Bellatrix let out a snort, "Do you think I like this? I'm in bloody horrid shoes... My feet are already swelling."  
"My wedding will have bridesmaids in black," Narcissa insisted, taking a seat on Bellatrix's bed, "And it will not be here... We'll have it at the Malfoy Manor."  
"Merlin help us," Bellatrix muttered under her breath, taking a peek outside through her window. There were countless relatives, both young and old, in their massive backyard. Some were standing in groups, others spread out, having a solo drink.

Merlin, it was depressing.

"I'm going to go see if Lucius is here yet," Narcissa sighed, rising and desperately trying to flatten out her dress, "You coming?"  
"To see Malfoy?" Bellatrix inquired, then gave a snort, "I'd rather not, no..."

Narcissa shrugged her shoulder, a small blonde curl rolling down, then left, shutting the door loudly behind her. With another frustrated grumble, Bellatrix stalked across the room and picked up her wand, sending herself to the only place that really made her happy; her classroom.

She sat down on the floor in the darkness, her ears perking when she heard a few rats scuttle across the stone, and one squeak loudly when Voldemort's snake caught it. The silence was soothing for her, in a twisted sort of way, and she stared down at the dirty floor, then up to the bloody walls; everything here was a comfort. Her dress was nearly glowing in the darkness, and when a brief snippet of light fell on her, she looked up, a little shocked to find He had come to see her.

"I don't believe we have a lesson," he chuckled as he slid into the room, igniting the torches around her, "And so seldom do I get to see such a pretty side of Bellatrix."

She had been coming to see Voldemort for nearly four weeks now. It didn't take her long to learn how to block him out of her mind, but regularly she let him in, just because she wanted to. It wasn't as if she had anything to hide.

The last few days she had tried out the killing curse, which turned out to be a little more tricky then she anticipated, but Voldemort was proud of her, so she was content. There were days they just spent time perfecting the Cruciatus, and there were others where he lectured her on Dark Arts in history, the real things that they wouldn't dream of teaching at Hogwarts. It was all just so fascinating, and Bellatrix always dreaded the end of their lessons, which were usually around three in the morning. Even then, she would try and ask him questions, just to prolong her stay.

Now that she really thought about it, he was a very handsome man. Of course, she could see some age to him, but that didn't matter to her. It was his power, his skill, and his temper that she really liked.  
"Silent today, are we?" he chuckled, standing over her and gazing down, "What's on that mind of yours?"  
"My sister is getting married today," she mumbled, somewhat childishly, "And... And she's going to be Mrs. Rosier... No more Andromeda Black. Rosier. I'm going to be related to Evan Rosier!"  
He clucked his tongue at her and began to circle her, his hands clasped behind his back, "Aren't most Purebloods related somehow anyway?"  
That was true. She shifted and brought her knees up to her chest, "I suppose, but usually that's not an excuse to make conversation. Now I have to talk to him."  
"He serves me," Voldemort stated, stopping behind her and curling a piece of her thick, black hair around his long finger, "What if I was to send you two on a mission together... Would you come sit on my floor and complain too?"  
"No," she replied quickly, glaring at the spot in front of her, "Anything you say I do, my Lord. But he's... He's marrying my sister! Next it'll be Lucius and Narcissa... And then it's just me. Me alone in my house with my bloody parents."  
"What's keeping you there?"  
"Mother," she sighed, rolling her eyes, "And the fact a woman cannot leave her home until she's married."  
"And you don't want to marry?"

She swallowed thickly, trying to think of a suitable answer, considering who she was in company with, "No one whom I would consider would ask me."  
"Oh? And what makes you think that?"  
Bellatrix remained silent, chewing on her lip for a moment, "Because he can't."  
"I see," his voice was deep, contrasting hers at this particular moment, "Why did you come here?"  
"I like it here," Bellatrix replied honestly, "No one finds me strange here."  
"I find you very strange," he laughed, his hand still fiddling with a bit of her hair, "But I too am strange."

Bellatrix smiled weakly and finally rose, dusting the dirt off her dress, then turned back to face him, "Can't I just stay here?"  
He cocked an eyebrow as he looked down at her, "It seems you are a bridesmaid, little girl... You need to go back."  
But Rodolphus was there.  
"Yes, yes he will be," he murmured, "And as I've heard you shout several times in that head of yours... He's your date for today."  
"Yes," she grumbled in a frustrated tone, letting out a deep sigh, "I don't know what he's playing at."  
"Bellatrix, I really don't see myself as a counselor for you," he insisted, placing a finger under her chin to pull her face up to him, "Talk to your sisters about men... Talk to me about anything else."  
"Yes, my Lord."

He performed a quick cleaning charm on her dress, then looked her over, "It's an odd colour for you, Bellatrix. I prefer you in black."  
"As do I, I can assure you," she remarked, smiling up at him, "I'll see you tonight then for my lesson."  
"I'm sure the wedding will last until midnight," he reminded, shaking his head, "I shall see you tomorrow."  
"I can leave though!" she argued, knowing he liked it when she did, "I can leave early... It's at my house, I'll say I feel ill."  
"And leave poor Mr. Lestrange all by himself?"  
"I'm sure he'll find another girl to replace me."  
Voldemort pursed his lips, "I see you are in an arguing mood... I will not expect you tonight, but I know you'll come."  
"Of course I will."  
"Go on then, home."

She needn't be told twice, and when she finally had her wits about her, she was back in her room. However, there was no longer the cheery hymn of music playing the in the backyard, nor a peaceful silence in the house. There were people shouting, some arguing... When she hurried over to the window, she noticed people were speaking frantically with one another. Bellatrix grinned; drama. Just what she needed to lighten up her mood.

She picked up her skirts and hurried out of her room, only to run into Rodolphus nearly directly at her door.  
"Where have you been?" he hissed, grasping her hand and pulling her down the hall toward the first floor, "Andromeda's gone."  
Bellatrix froze, ripping her hand away, "What do you mean gone?! Where did she go?!"  
"No one knows, but your bloody mother has locked herself in a room somewhere and is crying her heart out... Your father and Rosier, along with his father, are shouting at each other, and guests have no idea what is going on."  
"So is everything cancelled?" Bellatrix inquired lightly, trying not to show how happy she was that Evan was not going to be her brother-in-law.

Rodolphus repeated that he wasn't sure, then proceeded to pull her downstairs, their hands clasped together. Bellatrix frowned, "Let go of me."  
"I'm trying to make the Blacks look good," he snarled, shooting her a look, "With one runaway daughter, the least they could have is the other two with respectable men."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes, then changed the power and pulled Rodolphus through the crowd of people to Narcissa and Lucius, who were clearly trying to stay out of everything the best they could.  
"Where were you?" Narcissa demanded when Bellatrix was close enough, "Mother was in the midst of a fit about you not coming out of your room when we found out Andy was gone."  
"Did you talk to her this morning?" Bellatrix inquired, completely ignoring the question after nodding a brief greeting to Lucius, who had his arm curled tightly around Narcissa's hips, "I mean... Maybe she decided not to marry the git."  
"Obviously," Narcissa droned, her nostrils flaring, "I bet she ran off with that man I saw her talking to in the fireplace."

A few of the conversations froze around the four Purebloods, and Narcissa's eyes widened as a few of the elder Blacks and Rosiers turned on her sharply, all demanding to know more information about what she had just said. Bellatrix even had to step out of the way to avoid being shoved by her great aunt, who looked practically livid that one of her little nieces would abandon a man like Evan Rosier.

"Please," Lucius said smoothly, but firmly, "My fiance merely witnessed something that her sister had hoped to keep private... She only knows there was another man. No name, no real appearance, save the head in the flames. So I kindly request that you do not trample her before our wedding."  
Bellatrix looked between the pair and finally noticed something; an exchange of glances.

Narcissa had given his arm a squeeze, then smiled in the most seductive manner she had ever seen her use. Raising an eyebrow, Lucius leaned down and whispered something in her ear, causing her to smile more.

The relatives backed down with Lucius's words, but the room was still abuzz with the recent gossip that had just been put out.

"Quite a way with words, isn't he?" Rodolphus commented as Lucius and Narcissa slipped out of the hall. Bellatrix rolled her eyes, "I'd never let a man speak for me... I have my own voice, and am quite capable of using it."  
"I suppose today truly marks how different the Black girls are then," he whispered, "You, dark and bold, serving the Dark Lord. Andromeda full of goodness and has run off like the rebel she pretended to never be, and Narcissa, the golden flower among the dirt. Such diversity for such an interesting family."  
"Don't assume you know things about my family," she snarled, pulling her hand away from his once again, "I'm sure my sister was frightened of marriage and left... It can't be any worse then that."  
"If you say so."

Bellatrix shot him an annoyed glare, then let out a grumble, "I need a smoke."


	7. Dangers of Knockturn

Bellatrix had never seen her mother so furious. For days she stalked about the Manor, kicking house elves for good fun, yelling at paintings for talking too cheerfully, and had destroyed nearly every photograph of Andromeda there was to be found. Apparently, Bellatrix's darling sister had run off with a man named Ted Tonks, and while still in her wedding dress Evan had purchased for her, married the filthy Muggle born man in Muggle London, and were somewhere in the Pacific, enjoying their honeymoon.

Lucky chit.

Narcissa was visiting Lucius nearly everyday at his Manor, apparently to spend more time with his parents, which left Bellatrix alone in the house with a murderous mum and a father who had locked himself up in his study, apparently trying to drown himself in books.

She spent all day in the house, since she couldn't think of an excuse to get out. Rodolphus had popped by several times, but she usually ended up shouting at him because he said something that irritated her, and she would order him to leave.

Her lessons with Voldemort were the only things keeping her sane. Or were they? Every day she would come home feeling a little giddy about some new dark snips of information she had learned. Sometimes she wanted to try them out on the people around her. Perhaps her mother would look almost loving withering on the floor under her curse. Or, she could hex them into doing her will, then she would have the run of the house. However, Voldemort had strictly forbidden her to use her new magic on anyone yet, since he seemed rather intent on allowing her to torture strangers, but not her family.

After studying with him for nearly two months, he was bringing her strangers to torment. Sometimes they were Muggle men one of the other Death Eaters had found on the street for her, others it was a young witch who was too nosy around meetings. No matter the person, Bellatrix found some sort of twisted joy in listening to them scream. The Dark Lord had once mentioned he would not hesitate in hurting her, since he rather liked her howling in pain. Now she understood why. The power that one could hold over another life was thrilling, and every time Bellatrix was allowed to do it, she felt a little bit of her mind fly free. Not that she really needed it, anyway. All the mind that she needed, she used. The rest was just waiting to be set loose.  
He had asked her to accompany him into town that day, and she was trying to find an excuse suitable to tell her mother why she would be spending all day locked away.

"Narcissa and I are going to spend the day at the Malfoy Manor," she intoned lightly at lunch. Narcissa's head shot up from across the table and frowned, a puzzling look in her soft blues, "What?"  
"We are going to see Lucius," she hissed through gritted teeth, her eyes flashing dangerously, "Remember? He invited us..."  
"Oh, of course," her sister replied, her tone somewhat playful and amused, "Yes, mother, do you mind? Rodolphus is coming too... I think he and Bella are going to see the Malfoy gardens together."  
"What?!"  
"Remember, Bella?" she giggled, taking a delicate sip of her water, "Then we're going to dinner..."

Oh, she was going to suffer for this. Now Bellatrix would have to meet up with Rodolphus, since her mother was bound to ask how the day went. And if he confessed he had no idea what she was talking about... Bellatrix actually feared, a little, what her mother would do to her.

"I suppose that would be nice," her mother grumbled, taking a sip of something that resembled coffe, but Bellatrix could smell the vodka from down at her end of the table. Narcissa smiled pleasantly, then pushed away from the table, "Then you'll excuse us... We need to get ready."

Her mother grunted something incoherent, and her father barely glanced up from behind his paper, so Bellatrix took the moment to hurry out after her younger sister, ready to throttle her, but at the same time hug her.

"How dare you set me up with Rodolphus!" she snarled, slamming Narcissa's door, her eyes watching her sister as she kneeled down in front of the fireplace.  
"Just a moment, Bella... I need to tell Lucius we're coming, and then you're going to tell me why you need to leave so badly."  
"It's none of your business!"

She leaned back against the wall, sucking on her top teeth as Lucius's head suddenly appeared in the orange flames, flickering for a few moments before coming into focus, "Oh... Hello, love. This is a bit of a surprise."  
"Afternoon, darling," she cooed, causing Bellatrix to roll her eyes, "Bella and I will be dropping by in a few moments. She needs an excuse to get out of the house, and visiting you was the first thing that came into her head."  
"I'm touched."  
"Don't be!" Bellatrix shouted from the other side of the room. Apparently he heard her, and let out a chuckle, "When are you coming?"  
"A few moments... We won't be long," Narcissa informed him, bringing her hand to her lips and kissing it for him, "See you soon."

He nodded, then vanished. Bellatrix made a face, "I'm surprised you didn't snog the flame."  
"And what, burn my face?" Narcissa droned, rising gracefully to her feet and turning back to face Bellatrix, "Tell me... Why do you need to go out?"  
"I want a day to myself," Bellatrix lied, causing her sister to smirk, "What?! I want to get out of this house!"  
"You start playing with your sleeves when you lie," Narcissa informed her, nodding down to her hands, which were currently twisting the fabric between them, "Why are you really going out?"  
"I'm meeting someone."  
"A man."  
"Yes."  
"And his name is...?"  
"I can't tell you."  
"Can't, or won't?"  
"Both."  
"If you don't tell me, I'll tell mother you really aren't going to meet Rodolphus."  
"If you tell mother, I'll inform her and father that the long 'walks' you and Lucius take during parties are really not walks at all... It astonishes me how you get dirt in your hair on those walks, little sister."

Bellatrix grinned triumphantly as Narcissa's cheeks burned bright red; she had won. With a slight growl, Narcissa fetched her traveling cloak from the closet, then shoved a spare into Bellatrix's hand, "Fine. We'll do a side-along-side apparation, then you can go along your merry way."  
"Acceptable by me," Bellatrix droned, "You keep this quiet, I keep that fact you and Lucius are not a 'pure' relationship quiet."  
"Done."

Her mother had made it perfectly clear to all of her daughters that they were not allowed to have any sort of sex before marriage, and Bellatrix figured the only one who would have listened would be Narcissa. However, as the blonde girl was romanced in with Lucius, Bellatrix knew any sort of notion of consummating the marriage strictly after they were married was out the window. She had actually walked in on them once. Neither paid any attention, but she merely stood silent for a moment, smirked, then slipped out. However, if her mother found out Narcissa had already slept with Lucius, there was good chance she would be skinned alive, then fixed up, then skinned again.  
Bellatrix gripped Narcissa's arm firmly, and with a quick murmur from her sister, they were both speeding off to the Malfoy Manor, coming out of darkness and confusion into a well lit entrance hall.  
There was always a stark difference between the Black Manor and the Malfoy Manor. While Bellatrix noted that her family was much more into a Medieval sense of art and culture, the Malfoys were very up with the times, usually changing the style of their manor every few months. Bellatrix didn't make a habit of dropping by, but apparently the elder women were 'friends', to a degree, which meant family dinners and gatherings aplenty.

"Well, I must admit I am curious as to why our dear Bellatrix is going out," Lucius chuckled as he strode into the room, going directly for Narcissa and planting a kiss on her forehead, "It's not everyday she thinks of me."  
"Not favorably, anyway," Bellatrix sneered, rolling her eyes, "It's not any of your business... But He and I are going into town together."  
Lucius's face fell and his arms dropped, "What?"  
"Yes, what indeed..." Narcissa mumbled, studying her sister in close detail, "Who is he?"  
"Cissa... Wait in the lounge for me," Lucius muttered, "Your sister and I need to talk."  
"But-"  
"Just go, Narcissa," Bellatrix growled, folding her arms angrily across her chest, "The sooner your fiance and I talk the sooner I can leave."

Narcissa glared at them both, then stormed out of the room, flinging a door somewhere open forcefully, then slamming it shut.  
"Have fun with her," Bellatrix chuckled, "She seems to be in a fun mood."  
"The Dark Lord ordered us all to meet him in Knockturn this evening," Lucius snarled, crossing the room quickly and speaking in hushed tones, "Why are you meeting him so early?"  
She wasn't aware that more Death Eaters were coming along, but she clearly remembered Voldemort ordering her to arrive in his classroom an hour or so earlier before they left. With a smug sort of sneer, Bellatrix relaxed, "No need for this hostility, Lucius... I'm a guest."  
"An unwelcome one," he hissed, glowering down at her, "Why did he ask you to come sooner?"  
"You dare question him?" she whispered, her eyes narrowing, "I'm sure he has his reasons."  
"Fine."

She gave a triumphant sniff as he stalked off in the direction Narcissa had last gone, and before long, she heard an identical doorslam. She let out a snort, then apparated into her classroom, easing back into a corner, then sliding onto the floor, enjoying the strange way her room brought her comfort.

She heard Voldemort chuckle deeply from his usual place against a nearby wall, "I think you enjoy this classroom far too much, little girl."  
"It's such a lovely room though," Bellatrix argued, stretching her arms out before her and sighing, "I honestly like it."  
"That sort of ruins the effect I was going for," he murmured darkly, causing her skin to prickle, "Why teach dark things in a room my student likes so much?"  
"But... It... It helps me enjoy the art so much more," Bellatrix stammered, trying to find the appropriate wording, "I understand things so easily... I think you should have become a teacher."  
"And steered clear from being a political radical?" he laughed, pushing off the wall and stalking towards her, his usually dark cloak flowing about, "I was going to teacher... Unfortunately I was denied that privilege."

Bellatrix's eyes widened, and she crawled toward him, kneeling at his feet, "Who would ever do that?"  
"My pretty Bella," he cooed, smiling down at her, "Not everyone serves me, contrary to what you think."  
"I know that, my Lord," she remarked, the corners of her lips curving as his fingers began twirling a bit of hair, "Who would have the authority to deny you access to teach?"  
He gazed down at her, his eyes hard as ice when he replied, "Dumbledore."

Bellatrix felt her very soul stir at the name. Dumbledore. He was a ruddy thorn in her side her entire seven years at Hogwarts. Headmaster, 'friend to all', and a weak man when it came to matters of blood. Her face wrinkled up, "Dumbledore? I wish you would have killed him."  
"As do I, Bellatrix, as do I," Voldemort purred, his fingers suddenly knotting violently in her hair and dragging her head back, "But we have more important things to discuss, at the moment."  
She let out a soft gasp, her eyes wide as her mind tried to grasp what she had done wrong. Moaning soundlessly, her hands flew up to his, clasping it, "My Lord-"  
"You'll only need to listen," he ordered, wrenching her hair a little more, "We share a bond, you and I. However, today in Knockturn you will fall back in line with the rest, and remain silent unless addressed. You will speak to no one, and no one but me shall speak to you. My followers work in silence, an element that sends shivers into the very hearts of the people we attack. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"  
"Y-Yes, my Lord," she stammered, her eyes still wide as she slowly began to feel the pain in her neck, "I wouldn't dare speak out of turn, I promise."  
"Good," he murmured, finally releasing her and stepping back, "I just wanted to make sure. I have something for you... A mask."

She had seen the masks. This would not be the first time she had been surrounded by the rest of Voldemort's followers. One evening Voldemort ordered her to watch a meeting, safely from a distance. They tortured a man for information, and in the end killed him. Each masked servant worked with extreme skill and precision; Bellatrix knew she was just as good.

He swept away and ordered her to stand, then remove her cloak. She shrugged it off her shoulders delicately, jumping slightly when he snatched it away and replaced it with a worn wool one, one with a thick hood that she had seen Rodolphus in once before. Bellatrix pulled it on, enjoying the way the roughness felt against her skin. A skull-like mask was thrust into her hands, and she made no hesitation to place it over her face, all forms of sight cut off, except two little holes over her eyes.

She liked it like this. She liked the darkness.  
"Come," he hissed gruffly, gripping her upper arm in a sudden motion, then pulling her close, "Tonight you do not question me. Should I ask you to kill, you will kill."  
"I will kill for you."

He seemed satisfied, since she felt the gripping sensation of apparation dragging her in, and before she knew it, they were standing in a rather chilly alleyway, alone. Bellatrix rarely made the effort to visit Knockturn Alley, as it was of no interest in her part to do so.

Today, however, she followed in Voldemort's shadow, her hood pulled up to keep her face hidden. They spent what seemed like hours stalking up and down narrow streets, stopping every so often for Voldemort to watch something, or draw attention to the way he had men stationed in the most unlikely of places. What was Voldemort planning? Silence was key between the pair, and Bellatrix didn't have the heart, or gut, to break it.

After decades had passed on with agonizing slowness, more men in masks started marching behind Bellatrix, some overtaking her and walking closer to Voldemort, others remaining back, all in silence. It was such an adrenaline rush, and Bellatrix felt a small smile creeping over her lips. A hand suddenly brushed over hers, and when she glanced over her shoulder, she recognized Rodolphus behind his identical skull mask. He smirked, then walked a little faster, leaving her behind him with arrogance.

"Stupid git," she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes.  
Voldemort finally stopped at one of the most elegant buildings, if one could call it elegant, in all of Knockturn Alley. The men around her stopped walking insantly, and her eyes darted about, aching to ask what was going.  
He disappeared inside the building, and Bellatrix pinched the man beside her, noting that it was Snape, "What are we doing?"

He shot her a scowl, then scuttled a little closer, as if trying to keep his voice down completely, "The man who lives here stole something from the Dark Lord... He's a Ministry official who's locked away loads of our men, just for the sake of doing it, whether he's proven them or not. The Dark Lord is merely... taking him out of the picture."  
Bellatrix frowned, "Then why are we here?"  
"The man has Ministry Aurors round here... Everywhere..." he murmured, "We can only expect them to fight back once we've cast the mark."  
Ah, the Dark Mark. Bellatrix was excited to see it happen for the first time. Apparently, whenever a followed of Voldemort, or the Dark Lord himself, committed a murder or some sort of crime, the Dark Mark was placed above the house, mainly to remind people they were still at large.

Voldemort returned in less then ten minutes, his face still stony as he turned away from the small group of Death Eaters, then hailed his wand to the sky, "Morsmordre!"

The men around Bellatrix let out a rowdy bunch of cheers as a green shape suddenly took form in the darkening sky; it resembled her brilliant tattoo that he had given her for her wrist. How fitting.  
The men remained together for a few moments, congratulating the Dark Lord, then slowly began to disperse, flitting off in all directions. Bellatrix stood still, slightly confused on what all had just happened.

"Come on, Black, let's move," Lucius grunted as he and Severus strolled toward her, "We're finished."  
She made eye contact with Voldemort, and she smiled a little as he swept over to her, "Confused, Bella?"

Bella... No one but Narcissa had ever called her Bella before. She was sure people wanted to, but with her anger, it seemed they would not risk it.

"Slightly, my Lord," she replied boldly, "Why were we needed?"  
"For the sake of anyone who was watching to realize we're strong in numbers," he chuckled, sliding a hand over her shoulder and forcing her to walk, Lucius and Severus slowly marching behind, "To show we are capable of anything."  
"They should already know that," she muttered, peeking up every so often to the dark windows that glared down at her, "The mark should tell them that."  
She heard him chuckle silently, his arm still around her, "Yes, Bella, they should know by now-"  
Before he could even finish his statement, a blinding flash of light whizzed out from one the alleyways, pounding the Dark Lord directly in the stomach, which sent him flying back into Lucius.  
"My Lord!" Bellatrix exclaimed, drawing out her wand and watching as Severus quickly tore off to the alley, and within seconds, a green flash erupted, and the young man returned solely.  
She didn't keep her attention on him for long, as she had more important things to worry about.

"Use a bloody stunning spell... Coward," Voldemort grumbled, allowing Lucius to aid him in his struggle to stand, "Why wasn't this area cleared?!"  
"It was," Lucius grunted, "We had it done twice before we began tonight! I... It must have been one of the new recruits. We set them to do the final sweeps."  
"I'll deal with them later..."  
"Can you walk?" Bellatrix asked timidly, wanting to check him for some sort of injury, "We need to get you out of here."  
"I'm fi-..." he groaned loudly and doubled over, and it took both Lucius and Severus to keep him straight, "Not a stunning spell... Some... other sort. I'm sure I have it in the library in my home... Why wasn't this bloody area checked?!"  
"I'm sorry, my Lord," Lucius muttered once more, "I'll have the men responsible for this killed-"  
"I want to do it," Voldemort snarled, leaning heavily on the pair as Bellatrix watched, "Bring them to me as soon as you can... Bellatrix will take me back."

Severus had already removed his mask, and she noticed him raise his eyebrows in shock, "Black? My Lord-"  
"Are you questioning me, Snape?" Voldemort demanded, finally stabling himself on his two feet and shoving the men away, "She will tend to me, as a woman should. Find the men who were in charge of this ward and bring them to me!"

The sexist remark stung a little, but Bellatrix pushed past it and pulled off her mask, quickly situating herself under his arm for support as Lucius and Severus disappeared.

"Ruddy idiots," Voldemort hissed, almost out of character, "You think they were incompetent."  
"A thought that has been on my mind for years, my Lord," Bellatrix sighed, weaving her arm around his waist as she tried to picture her classroom, "Your home is connected to the classroom... Right?"  
"Everything is connected there," he replied, groaning softly, "You know... There were wards made... We were supposed to hear someone step in and out of them... Once you've tended to me, I want you to help Lucius and Severus, and you may watch as I torture whoever let this happen."  
While most good souls would have declined the offer, Bellatrix smiled and thanked him, pleased with the reward of that night's events.


	8. Sickness

Bellatrix had apparated into Voldemort's classroom with no difficulty. However, dragging the man through his elaborate house proved to be more of a challenge.

She had been informed he lived mostly underground, since it was the easiest to stay hidden from his enemies. She didn't mind; the darkness suited him, and she had found her kindred spirit. The hallways were made of detailed stone, with no portraits to busy the pair as they walked slowly. When Bellatrix dared to look into an open door, she noticed most of the inner rooms were made of dark woods and marbles. As she studied the empty rooms in silence, she wondered how on earth he could afford such nice living conditions. He must have made it all by magic, since he had told her once he usually had wealthy families, like the Malfoys and Lestranges, to sponsor him.

His study was where Voldemort ordered her to stop, and when she entered, she knew his house had to have been made by magic. It was like stepping into a massive hall, which was lined with countless bookshelves, each bursting with thick novels. An impressive sight, to be sure. Bellatrix usually didn't have time for books, but she usually thought very highly of someone who could just sit and read for hours on end.

A small fireplace was situated in the corner, and around it were two long, black couches, and a rather worn looking, yet matching, armchair.

"Come and sit down," Bellatrix said finally, leading him over to the couch and forcing him to sit. Voldemort glared up at her, then shakily rose to his feet, "Do not assume that you are allowed to order me around, little girl."  
"But..."  
"Hush," he hissed, walking past her, then nearly collapsing against the armchair. He grumbled something to himself, then leaned on the back of the furniture for support, grasping his pale forehead with a wavering hand. Bellatrix bit her lip, "My Lord... Please, sit down."  
"No," he snarled, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt and glaring at her, "Help me find a book about magical illnesses of the nineteenth century. I'm sure it's in here somewhere..."  
Bellatrix took a deep breath, and firmly replied, "No."

"No?" he repeated dangerously, stalking back over to her.

She swallowed thickly when he stopped a mere few inches from her body, his eyes glowering down at her. It wasn't the fact that she had disobeyed him that made Bellatrix anxious, it was the close proximity they were now sharing.

She glanced up and his eyes flashed, "My Lord... You asked me to tend to you. How can I do that if you won't listen to me?"  
He cocked an eyebrow, and she mentally pleaded with him to trust and accept what she told him. Finally, after a few tense moments, he stepped aside and almost fell onto the couch when his legs gave way.

"I think you're getting a fever," she commented, noticing he had unbuttoned another button, apparently getting hotter as they spoke, "It could have been an accelerated form of the flu that hit you."  
"You've seen this before?" he inquired, raising his eyebrows. She shrugged, "Put your feet up..."  
He complied with slight hesitation, kicking off his large boots and resting his feet on the other armrest, "Happy?"  
Ignoring his sarcastic tone, she let out an exasperated sigh, "I'm only trying to make you comfortable, my Lord."  
He was being so stubborn!  
"I'm not being stubborn," he groaned, his eyes narrowing, "I just don't take orders lightly from those below me."  
She rolled her eyes and pressed her slightly cold hand against his forehead, shaking her head at how hot it was, "It has to be it... No one who was healthy gets a fever this high in a matter of minutes."

There were a few books and a copy of the Daily Prophet on the table behind her, so she made quick work in turning them into a bucket of ice water and a rag.  
"My father cast a similar spell on my uncle once," she explained, dipping the rag into the water and wringing it out, "He had an accelerated form of the flu... It was amusing, but only because he was being a prat and deserved it."  
"Excellent save," he muttered as she turned back to him. Bellatrix shot him a weak grin, then sat on the couch beside him, placing her cool hand on his heated forehead, "You're very hot... No one gets this hot in such a short amount of time."

He grunted something incoherent, and she was sure it was just him making a complaint, then swapped her hand for the wet rag, pressing it soothingly against his skin, "Unfortunately, because of the oddity of the curse... We aren't allowed to use magic."  
"What?!" he snarled, sitting up quickly and shoving her hand away, "Oh, come now, Bellatrix-"  
"My uncle tried," she whimpered, cowering as his furious eyes stared down at her, "And it only worsened the condition... I don't want to risk it."  
He let out a growl, then settled back down on the couch, his head resting against a small pillow, "This will take ages."

He sounds like a child.

"I most certainly do not," he snarled, her cheeks flushing, "I merely think wizards should be able to hand a simple spell..."  
"A Muggle remedy, sad as it is to say," she made her very disgust with the idea evident in her voice, "May be tedious, but really all you need is rest and something hot to eat. It should pass."  
"It had better."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Bellatrix keeping the cool cloth to his forehead, then periodically checking his face to see if he had gotten any warmer. The soft glow of the fire emitted a wondrous play for Bellatrix to watch on his face. Soon, she found it difficult to look away as the shadows performed for her.

"Bellatrix?"  
"Hmm?" she muttered, then glanced up quickly, hoping she hadn't been too obvious that she was staring. Voldemort raised an eyebrow, "Why won't you close your mind to me?"  
"I... I don't want to," she replied sheepishly, removing the rag and tossing it back into the bucket, "I think you should sleep though... Perhaps it'll pass then."

She slowly stood up, then turned away, wondering what else she could do to help, when she was suddenly tugged, rather forcefully, back onto the couch. A startled gasp barely escaped her lips, and her dark eyes darted up to his green ones, slightly confused; had she done something to upset him?

"There are other remedies we have not tried yet," he purred, his hand sliding up around her wrist, "Can you think of any?"  
Her heart started to pound in her chest, and she took a moment to two to answer, "I was just going to look."  
"Don't play thick, Ms. Black," he hissed, tightening his hold on her, "If you won't close your mind to me, you will not lie."  
"I... I..."  
"My, my, Bellatrix Black with nothing to argue or shout," he chuckled, his free hand curving around her back and pulling her a little closer, "Surely being with a man like this couldn't bother you. Don't forget... You always keep your mind open to me."

Yes, but this was different. He was different. Bellatrix shifted awkwardly, then finally decided to give in a little. She leaned forward, placing one hand on his chest, while the other kept her balance, "What can I do for you, my Lord?"  
He licked his lips, a coy smile appearing, then gave her a nudge forth, "Do you need to ask, Bella?"

She smirked, almost nervously, then dipped her head down, lightly brushing her lips against his. The hand that had been resting against her thigh flew up to her face, cupping it, then dragging it closer. Bellatrix inhaled sharply, her fingers gripping the thin fabric of his shirt as he nipped harshly at her lip. Before she could stop herself, she let out a throaty moan, her lips parting automatically to allow his tongue past.  
Chills shattered across her skin, and it was almost as if she could feel the power that normally radiated around the man. His hands were firm, holding her in place above him while her slender, small hands moved randomly along his chest, her breath hitching whenever he gave her a sharp pinch or tug.

He pulled away breifly, then gave her behind a swat, "On. Now."  
Bellatrix swung a leg over and straddled his hips, her hands keeping her completely balanced while resting on his chest. Cold eyes traveled over her lazily, and for the first time with a man, she felt self-conscious. His tongue flickered out swiftly, licking his lower lip, "My, my... I had my doubts you would listen."  
"I do what you tell me to do," she whispered, his eyes darkening at the low tone of her voice, "Anything you tell me to do, my Lord."  
She slid down his chest, her face very close to his, "Are you feeling better?"  
"Not really," he muttered, his hand brushing a bit of black hair back, then wrapping it snuggly around one of his lengthy fingers, "I suppose you'll have to continue to tend to me, Bella."  
"It would be my pleasure," she purred seductively, shooting him a grin before nudging her lips into his, her skin shivering with delight at the contact. He was a rather good kisser; had he been with many girls in the past? Probably, who wouldn't be attracted to such a powerful figure?

She wished his hands would do some more exploring, as she knew he knew she was open to him touching her, but they remained firmly wrapped around her upper thigh, drawing slow circles with his thumbs occasionally. Rolling her eyes, she brought her own hands up to cup his face, then broke away, frowning, "You're heating up again."  
"Bellatrix, you and I are in close contact... Obviously we're both going to be a little warmer," he argued, his hands clamping down when she tried to get up, "Stay."  
"My Lord," she giggled, giving him a quick kiss before slipping out of his grip to stand up, "If you aren't better, the others will get suspicious that I am not helping you... And, Merlin, I can only imagine what they'll do to me."

Rodolphus, nor Lucius, nor anyone else among the masks would think twice about hurting Bellatrix if it came to Voldemort. It was a little disturbing, but she knew she'd do the same.

"Bellatrix," he snapped, and she felt his eyes glare into her back as she conjured up some cough medicine, the Muggle brand, "I really think this method of treatment was working far better then the rest... Come here."  
"Take this," she said soothingly, pouring the thick liquid onto a large spoon, then sitting beside him once more on the couch, "It'll help and make things pass much faster."  
"What on Earth is that?" he demanded, raising his eyebrows, "Bella, I'm not taking Muggle remedies."  
"I hate it as much as you do," she argued, glaring down at the bottle of pink medicine, "But... It helps. A Pepperup Potion would just make things worse; otherwise I would have given it to you already."  
He grumbled something under his breath, then his eyes slowly narrowed, "I'm not taking it."  
Bellatrix released a groan and drummed her free hand on his chest, where it had currently been resting, "My Lord... You want this spell to pass... You want to be healthy again."  
"Someday I won't need to worry about trivial things, like health," he muttered, rolling his eyes, "You'll see, Bella."  
"I know, my Lord," she whispered, shooting him a smile, "But that day is not today, take it."

Oh, Gods! She sounded like her mother! A horrified expression suddenly passed over her attractive features, and Voldemort let out a soft chuckle, taking the spoon from her, "I suppose if you compare yourself to your mother freely, then I can take this."  
She winced when he gulped down the contents of the spoon, then gagged, "What the bloody Hell is this?!"  
"Cough medicine?" she replied tentatively as he thrust the spoon back into her hand, "I know it tastes bad-"  
"I believe you have done far too much talking today, little girl," he snarled, his tone heated as he snatched the spoon away again and tossed it back onto the table, "Now, come here."


	9. Pregnant

Bellatrix awoke to the sound of boots tromping across the hardwood floor of the Dark Lord's library. Releasing a groan, her eyes flickered open and she stretched, the blanket that had been spread across her falling off her shoulders. Still on the couch, she noticed she was alone now, instead of curled up to Voldemort as she had been the night before.

"Bloody Hell," she muttered, trying to smooth her hair down, then quickly button up her dress, which was currently hanging open for all the world to see. She heard a chuckle, and quickly looked up to see Voldemort staring down at her, his expression cold, yet somehow vaguely amused, "Bloody Hell indeed, little girl."  
She swung her legs over the side of the couch, flicking her hair back, "How are you feeling, my Lord?"  
"In perfect health," he replied casually, folding his hands together behind his back, "Your task is completed for today... You are dismissed."  
Dismissed? He was speaking to her as if she had just gone off and picked him up a cup of coffee. Bellatrix sat, motionless, for a moment or so, then rose, "Yes, my Lord."  
"Close your mind, Bella, it betrays you."

Perhaps she wanted it to. Perhaps she wanted him to know she was annoyed that he casually brushed her aside. No one brushed Bellatrix Black aside.

"I am not no one," he hissed softly, deftly making his way toward her, "Do not forget that."  
"I would never assume to-"  
"Don't be smart with me!" he snarled, his voice suddenly raised to a near shout, causing Bellatrix to shrink back from him, "My Lord, please-"  
"Oh, come now, no simpering," he chuckled, his temper back in check, "You and I are not finished, little girl."  
"We aren't?"  
"No, not even close," he murmured, standing very close to her, so close that Bellatrix desired him to just lean in and touch her, "I will call you anytime I wish, and you will come to me for whatever I demand, including what happened last night."

Her cheeks threatened to flame, but she composed herself, her stomach suddenly giddy, "Yes, my Lord... I understand."  
"Good... Leave," he muttered, "Now."

She turned away quickly, picked up her wand from the coffee table, and strolled out of the library, a confident gleam in her eyes. Dark eyes burned into her back, she knew it, but she refused to turn back and meet them, quite happy with how things turned out.

Her feet led her in a direction she was unsure of, until she found herself back in her classroom. For a moment, she stood in the smelly, dark room and just breathed it in, feeling the adrenaline building in her body. This room did things to her, good things.

A quick apparation brought her back home, in her adjoining bathroom, only to hear the sounds of someone rustling about through her bedroom. Frowning, she tossed her thick, black cloak on the floor and stepped out, frowning when she spotted her mother rummaging through her drawers.

"Good morning, mother," Bellatrix droned, folding her arms and leaning on the doorframe, "May I help you with something?"

Her portly mother straightened up, slamming one of her drawers closed, "It reeks of smoke in here... Didn't I forbid you from continuing that dirty habit?!"  
"Mother, it takes time for the smell to drift out," Bellatrix lied, her tone bored and emotionless, "I've gotten rid of all my packs."  
Save the countless ones hidden in her closet.  
"Are you lying to me, girl?"  
Another sigh, "No, mother."  
"Because if you are, I'll take great pleasure in raising my wand to you-"  
"I know, mother," Bellatrix snarled, her eyes narrowing, "Now get out of my room!"  
"How dare you speak to me in such a manner!" her mother shrieked, causing the house elf that had been waiting at the door obediently to whimper, "And where were you last night?! Hmm... If you dare tell me you were at a pub-"  
"I was out with Rodolphus," Bellatrix lied heatedly, "We were out for dinner, then I fell asleep at his manor after having too much wine."  
"Too much wine has never seemed to make you drowsy before," her mother noted, eyeing her suspiciously, "So if I was to Owl the dear boy, he would completely agree with me?"  
"Of course," Bellatrix replied, "Completely agree with you."

She continued to watch her mother lazily as the old woman stalked out of the room, then broke off into a run toward her tiny, corner fireplace, throwing a handful of powder into the simmering flame and calling out for the Lestrange manor. Instantly, Rodolphus' head appeared in the flames, though he looked slightly groggy. For Merlin's sake, it was nearly ten in the morning, how could he still be asleep?

"My, you're a pretty picture first thing in the morning," he chuckled, his hand appearing and rubbing his eye, "What do you want, Bella?"  
"You aren't allowed to call me that," she snarled, suddenly linking her pet-name back to the Dark Lord, "No one is."  
"The Dark Lord does."  
"He's different... He can call anyone whatever he wants to!"  
"Is there a point to this meaningful conversation?"  
"Yes!" she whispered, crouching a little closer to the flame, "You know I needed to tend to the Dark Lord last night, right?"  
"Yes, yes, I'm aware of that," he grumbled, "I have no idea why he would ask you... The rest of us are far more experienced."

Probably not in the area the Dark Lord was interested in. Bellatrix smiled to herself, "Nonsense, a woman's touch always helps... But anyway. I came in this morning and walked in on my mother snooping in my room, then demanding to know where I was last night."  
"Does this, by any chance, have something to with me?"  
"Yes," she sniffed, rolling her eyes, "I said we had dinner, I had too much wine, and fell asleep at your place."  
"She believed that?" he scoffed, his eyebrows slowly rising. Bellatrix growled, "Yes... And she's off to ask you if it's true... Expect an owl shortly."  
"My servant just informed me one has arrived... She is rather determined in finding a way to catch you slipping up."

Oh, was she ever. Bellatrix sighed, "What does it say?"  
She watched the flame head vanish for a moment, then return, the eyes cast down, as if reading something. A moment later, he was grinning, a cat that had spotted its prey. Bellatrix snorted, "What's she gone and said now?"  
"Well... And I quote - I see you and my daughter have been spending ample time together before the wedding of my darling Narcissa, and I think it is only appropriate that you two continue to see each other romantically afterward, I think she could be taken with you... Taken with me, are you, Bellatrix?"

Her jaw hung open, and she glared at him, "You make me sick, Lestrange! No, I am not taken with you! I can't believe she wrote that!"  
His silly little grin remained plastered on his face, and he snickered, "Well... I think if I should write a reply back that you did indeed fall asleep at my home, I'll need to inform her we are taken with each other... And we'll continue to see each other after the wedding."  
"What?!" she hissed, "You listen to me, Lestrange, there is no reason-"  
"Agree to it, or I'll tell her the truth."  
"What, that I was attending the Dark Lord?" Bellatrix taunted, almost daring him with her tone. Rodolphus smiled, "I'll tell her we shagged, and you are not interested in ever seeing me again."  
"Oh like that-"  
"You know your mother hates when you have little illicit affairs just as much as she hates you smoking."  
"How did-"  
"Our mothers talk."  
"Ah."

Blast her wretched mother! She just wanted to wring her fat little neck and kill her right then and there. It would solve so many of her problems.

Instead, Bellatrix decided it would be best to try to stay calm during this, "Fine. Tell her I'm taken with you. Atleast this will get her off my back about a suitor..."  
"Well, I think she already thought I wanted to be your suitor," he chuckled, his eyes cast down again, as if writing, "You know, since I asked to take you to the wedding."  
"That stupid cow," Bellatrix grumbled, "Look, just as long as you tell her we went out to dinner last night, I don't care what you say. None of it's true anyway."  
"Of course not..." he muttered, "I'm taking you out again. Tomorrow evening. Be ready at six."  
"I don't want to go out."  
"I don't want to lie to your mother, yet I am."

His head vanished, leaving her staring a bright red and orange flames curling up, then suddenly dying down.  
"Bellatrix!" Narcissa cried, flying into her room and slamming the door, "We need to talk, now!"  
Bellatrix rolled her eyes, then rose, straightening out her dark dress, "What do you want, Cissy, I was just about to take a shower."  
Her sister seemed in quite a state, and Bellatrix smirked, "Did dear Lucius tell you he wasn't pleased with the wedding flowers mother picked out?"  
"I'm pregnant."  
Bellatrix froze, "What?"


	10. Sisterly Affections

"What do you mean pregnant?" Bellatrix demanded shrilly, placing a silencing charm around her walls, her nostrils flaring, "How were you two idiots not careful enough?!"

She watched as her sister's eyes dissolved behind a mass of tears, and Bellatrix let out a disgusted snort, "Don't try it on me, you know you won't get any sympathy."  
Her sister straightened up, pushing her blonde hair behind her shoulders, "I'm not pushing for sympathy, Bella... I'm... I'm scared."  
"Are you positive that you're pregnant?" Bellatrix inquired, trying to sooth her sister in the only manner she saw fit, "Perhaps you messed up the test... It's possible."  
"No... No, I'm sure I did everything right," she murmured, crossing Bellatrix's room and taking a seat on the bed, "I mean, Bella, I took it three times, just to make sure!"  
"And it kept showing red?"

The pregnancy test was simple for witches. All the woman needed to do was hold her wand against her womb, murmur the spell, and a glow would hum out. If the test was false, the colour was blue, and if it was true, the colour was red. Bright red was always a sign that the child was atleast a month along.

"How bright?" Bellatrix muttered, raising an eyebrow in her sister's direction. Narcissa released a sigh, "Very."  
"Bloody Hell."  
"Well the wedding is soon," Narcissa chattered nervously, picking at her elegant, round nails, "So... So once we're married, it won't matter."  
"Does Lucius know?" Bellatrix inquired, taking her response when she noticed her sister's face fall, "Ah, I see. When do you plan on telling him?"

Her youngest sister swallowed thickly, and for the first time, Bellatrix noticed her hands were shaking. Oh, Gods, she seemed so pale...  
Narcissa was always a brave little girl. Bellatrix remembered when she stopped handling snakes as a young girl, Narcissa always picked them out of the garden, much to her mother's dismay. The very idea of a child seemed to frighten her out of her wits, and for once, she seemed disheveled and upset.

"Cissy," Bellatrix droned, strolling over to her and taking a seat beside her, "There's no sense getting upset over it now... I mean, you can't get... unpregnant."  
"Thanks," her sister mumbled, wiping under her nose, "I'm only eighteen... Bella, how am I going to handle having a child?"  
"I... I don't know," Bellatrix stammered, wrinkling her nose, "I've never thought of having a slimy brat."  
"Bella!"  
"I'm sorry..." Bellatrix chuckled, "Look, you're married in less than two weeks... You may be a month along, at the most, so you won't show for a little while longer."  
"But..."  
"I'm sure everyone is scared at first," Bellatrix stated, slipping into her lecturing tone, yet trying to keep it lighter than usual, "It's a big step... But... I don't know... You and Lucius can support a whole army of children once the marriage is final, so what are you worried about?"  
"Everything!" Narcissa exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air dramatically and rising, "Bella! What is the child doesn't like me? Or... Or... What if they run away from Lucius and I?"  
"Nonsense," the dark-haired witch snorted, leaning back and making herself comfortable on the array of pillows surrounding her headboard, "I'm sure Lucius will beat the child into submission."  
"Lucius would never do that!" Narcissa gasped, clutching her silver chain that hung daintily around her neck, "Do you think-"

"Cissy, I don't know!" Bellatrix groaned, finally having enough with the entire conversation, "Would you leave me be if I took you in to the doctor today to have everything ... checked out?"  
Narcissa shrugged, straightening out her shoulders, "I suppose... Only if we leave now."  
"Now? I need to shower..."  
"Yes, speaking of that... Where were you last night?"  
"Out."  
"I noticed that."  
"You keep prattling questions to me and I'll be forced to tell mother and father that you're pregnant out of wedlock... Your move, sister darling."  
Narcissa's eyes narrowed, "Call me when you're ready."  
"I won't be long."

She watched as her sister floated out of the room, shutting her door with restrained force. A slow grin spread over Bella's lovely lips, but she felt a sense of worry behind them. Her baby sister was pregnant? Gods, by now Bellatrix would have blasted the damn thing out of her. How could she be so calm? Yes, Narcissa had stressed her concern with being so young and with child, but not to the degree Bellatrix would have done. Had it been Bellatrix, things would have been thrown - people would be dead.

But each to their own, she thought as she trudged off to have a shower, thankful to finally be rid of her dress. She had been wearing it for almost a day and a half now... Well, she supposed half of it hanging off her body the previous night didn't really count as her wearing it...

She smiled at the very thought.

But, Gods, last night. She wished to never let that memory go. The Dark Lord was everything she had hoped for in a man, everything her other lovers had lacked. He was raw, primal; it made her weak just thinking about it. In reality it hadn't lasted terribly long, but to Bellatrix the night never seemed to end, and when it did, she wished for more. His hands were so cold, and for once, his eyes displayed a passion she had never seen in him. Lust, no doubt, but what else?

As she finished up her shower, she couldn't help but grin; today she felt different. Darker, more satisfied, yet hungry for more. It was such an odd feeling, to be so content with life, but desiring to further explore her options. What else could she be offered under the service of Voldemort


	11. Filth

"Bella?" Narcissa whispered as they sat in the waiting room of the pregnancy clinic, "Do you think anything is wrong with the baby?"  
"Honestly, I think something is wrong with you," Bellatrix snapped, snatching the clipboard away from the nurse who had been standing close by, then began filling out the forms, muttering, "If you don't stop asking me infernal baby questions I'm going to have to hex you."  
"Well you can't blame me!" Narcissa sniped, folding her hands elegantly on her lap, "I'm just... curious."  
"Well ask the bloody nurse when she comes in then!" Bellatrix grumbled as she wrote in Narcissa's allergies on the pink forms. Why on Earth were they pink? And baby pink at that. Well, they were in a clinic dedicated to babies...

In recent times a ward had opened in St. Mungos to allow witches to give birth in, though it had not gained too much popularity with the Upper Class families of the wizarding world. Many still preferred to give birth in the comfort of their own home, with a medi-witch or wizard there to assist them.

Had she been someone else, and a little curious, she would have asked Narcissa what she planned to do in nine months when some bloody child was popping out of her, but Bellatrix honestly didn't care.

"Stop jittering," Bellatrix ordered as Narcissa tapped her heel on the cool, crystal floor of the room, "I'm regretting bringing you here."  
"I'm just anxious, stop being like that," Narcissa snarled, shooting the attending nurse a venomous smile when the young woman slipped in to take the forms that Bellatrix had filled in, "I'm pregnant... I'm allowed to be as bloody upset and nervous as I want."  
"Well maybe you shouldn't have gotten pregnant."  
"I'm not having this argument with you."

Bellatrix hated how her youngest sister always remained so calm and mature, usually making her feel like a child at the end of their squabbles.  
Feeling discontent, Bellatrix crossed her legs forcefully and let out a sigh, her eyes drifting over the other women in the room. Thankfully none of them traveled in her circles, as it would take a matter of moment for word to reach her mother that Narcissa and Bellatrix Black were spotted at a pregnancy clinic.

"How am I going to tell Lucius?"  
Bellatrix felt her lip twitch, and she rolled her eyes, "I don't know, nor at the moment do I care."  
"You could be a little more supportive, Bellatrix," Narcissa noted coldly, looking down her nose at the dark witch, "It's only your niece or nephew that we're talking about here."  
"When I can actually hold the child is when I will start to care about it," Bellatrix snorted, crossing her arms and fiddling with a ring on her finger, "I do care about you, but at the moment nothing is wrong."  
"I'm feeling a little bloated."  
"Yum."  
"Bella!"  
"That's about as helpful as I'm going to be at this stage," Bellatrix groaned, shooting her sister an irritated look, her lip curling when she noticed Narcissa was smiling, "What?! Why the Devil are you smiling?!"  
"You..." Narcissa chuckled, reaching across to the small table a few feet in front of them and grasping a newspaper, "You make me laugh, Bella."

She let out an incoherent grumble and casually read the paper over her sister's shoulder, grinning when she noticed one of the headings - High Ranking Ministry Official Killed in his own Home! Suspect still at Large!

Aside from wondering when the Prophet was ever going to find someone who could write proper titles, Bellatrix felt a sick sense of smugness as she read on. The paper described the killer as merciless, suiting the Dark Lord perfectly, and that a witness had seen a 'rowdy pack of followers robed in masks and dark cloaks'. A smirk snaked in across her lips; had they been rowdy? No. They were quiet. But still, they had made the paper. She wasn't too sure whether Voldemort had wanted this sort of publicity, but this was what he was going to get.

"Sounds quite violent," Narcissa commented airily, "Mind you, the paper does usually overdo it, don't they?"  
"I suppose," Bellatrix replied, her voice still riddled with pride. She ignored the raised eyebrow her sister had sent her, and barked at the approaching nurse, "We've been waiting for ages!"  
"Yes, yes, I'm sorry, Ms. Black," the elderly woman huffed, checking Narcissa's clipboard, "But we've had late patients all day. It's a rarity we find some that are on time."  
"Flattering," Bellatrix droned, rising swiftly, "Let's get this over with."  
"I take it you are Narcissa?" the nurse inquired, sidestepping Bellatrix and helping her sister to her feet. The blonde witch smiled sweetly, "Yes, yes I am."

Ugh. She sounded so sickly innocent and fake it was enough to make Bellatrix throw up right then and there. The nurse placed an arm around Narcissa's shoulder, and Bellatrix grinned in noticing her younger sister shoot the woman a disgusted look, "Not to worry about anything is all you need to focus on... Let's go have a look then, shall we?"  
"Yes, let's." Bellatrix snarled, "This has dragged on and wasted enough of my day."  
"Oh, Bella, please be civil," Narcissa muttered, shooting her a dark look, "for me."  
"Fine," Bellatrix grumbled, glaring down at a little boy who had the nerve to gawk at the sisters as they passed. He hastily looked back to his mother, pretending to act as though he hadn't noticed Bellatrix.

"We can have the results owled to you in the morning, Mrs. Tonks... Have a lovely afternoon."  
"Thank you so much! I was getting a little worried, if I'm being honest."

Both Bellatrix and Narcissa froze as their other sister, Andromeda, exited from one of the halls into the waiting room, pulling her cloak on over her shoulders as she and a nurse spoke with each other. That... That filthy blood-traitor! What gave her the idea she even had the right to return back to England! She was a bloody disgrace.

Andromeda's skin looked sun kissed, and she was freckling again, meaning she really had gone to the Caribbean or the Pacific or SOME bloody island in the world with her 'husband' Ted Tonks. Mudblood... Oh, the horror that is bestowed upon her family. Bellatrix had never really been one to side with her family, but when it came to her sister, that woman, she was completely with them.

"I didn't know they just let anyone wander in here," Bellatrix snarled, crossing her arms and glaring down her nose at Andromeda, "Makes you sick, doesn't it, Narcissa?"  
"Yes... Yes, it does."

Andromeda's head whipped up in their direction, and her face paled, her mouth open. It was almost as if she was grasping for something to say, but nothing would come out. After a moment or so, she finally whispered, "What are you doing here?"  
"Don't speak to me, filth," Bellatrix snarled, causing the other women in the room to flinch, some of the closer ones even went so far as to inch down to another chair, farther away from the seething witch, "You have no right!"  
"I'm still a human, Bellatrix," Andromeda sneered, finally finding her backbone, "You will treat me with respect!"  
"Ha!" Narcissa snorted, wrinkling her nose, "You don't deserve to be in the same country as us, let alone the same room... Abandoner... Blood traitor."  
"Ladies, maybe we should-"  
"Shut up!" Bellatrix hissed, causing the nurse to bite her lip, "Andromeda Tonks... Merlin, it hurts my teeth to even say it!"  
"I'm not sinking to your level," Andromeda retorted, thrusting a jingling sac into her nurse's hand, "Good day."  
"Traitor," Bellatrix taunted as her sister stormed out, "You're a disgrace, Andromeda!"

"Disgusting," Narcissa spat, her nose wrinkled once again, "Honestly... You should monitor who you let in here."  
"Of course, Ms. Black," the nurse muttered, her tone quite cold, "Shall we go start your exam now?"  
"Yes, yes, let's go," Narcissa sighed, grasping Bellatrix's arm and pulling her along, finally getting out of that waiting room. The supposed calming blue colour the staff had painted the wall was doing nothing for her temper, and Bellatrix ripped her arm away from Narcissa, feeling the desire to go kill something.

"I'm going, Cissy," she stated, "Tell me how it goes."  
"No!" Narcissa pleaded, sounding distressed and frightened at the same time, "No, no, please, Bella, I need you to stay with me!"  
"But-"  
"Please?!"

The nurse looked between both sisters, silently judging Bellatrix for wanting to abandon her small sister during the exam. Bellatrix rolled her eyes, "Fine. But only because you asked so sweetly."  
"Thank you."

The nurse, who finally informed the sisters that her name was Myrtle, brought them to one of the countless rooms in the long hallways, and asked that Narcissa strip down and change into one of the hospital gowns. Bellatrix would have downright refused it, but Narcissa calmly accepted and inquired that she be given some privacy. Oh, how modest.

Once that had been finished, Myrtle returned and had Narcissa stretch out on a bed, while the nurse continued with pressing her wand at random points on Narcissa's body, sometimes pressing so hard that her sister hissed in pain. Myrtle waited at some points, then recorded down something on her clipboard. After, she asked Narcissa countless questions on how she was feeling, and what she planned on eating during her pregnancy.  
A waste of time, in Bellatrix's opinion. The entire ordeal took over an hour, and for over an hour, Bellatrix sat picking at her nails in boredom. When the Black sisters finally returned to their manor, she was thankful to be rid of her sister and her continuous stream of questions.

She had agreed to go out with Rodolphus that evening, and decided to get ready. She hadn't really eaten properly since lunch the previous day, and was actually looking forward to going back to the Witches' Hat for some nice fish.

She managed to put a bit of effort into her appearance, dawning a velvety dark blue dress, something against her usual greens and deep purples. When six rolled around, the sun had vanished completely, and Bellatrix found herself meeting a rather dashing looking Rodolphus right on time. Today she was far too interested in getting something to eat, rather then showing him up and being late.

"You look quite stunning this evening," he complimented, reaching down to grab her hand. However, she planted it firmly on her hip, "Come now, Lestrange... We aren't that close."  
"I assumed we are... Considering how much we share," he remarked softly, standing before her completely composed. Bellatrix raised an eyebrow, "Such as?"  
"Allegiances."  
"I share the same allegiance as Lucius Malfoy, but I don't let him kiss my hand," Bellatrix argued, snatching her cloak away from an obedient house elf and giving it a kick, "Shall we?"  
"Impatient tonight," he chuckled, shaking his head, "Pity. Normally you're so fun."  
"I'm hungry," Bellatrix droned, her eyes narrowing, "Let's go."  
"I've got somewhere special tonight," he informed her, grabbing her hand in a cocky manner and dragging her closer, "Somewhere fun."  
"Let go," she snarled, tempted to drive her knee up and into his crotch. Rodolphus grinned, "How can we get there if I don't take us? You don't know the place, I promise."  
"Where are we going, a pub?"  
"Yes."  
"What?! Rodolphus, how dare you-"

Before she could make a fit argument, she felt the familiar sensation of a joint apparation, her wand lying completely forgotten in her cloak, which she had dropped in outrage when informed she was going to a pub.


	12. Scum

Bellatrix ripped herself away from Rodolphus Lestrange when they had completed the apparation, and gazed at the small building in front of her with disgust. He was taking her to some ruddy pub! Since when did ladies of the upper circles ever, ever, allow themselves to be taken there!

"Where are we?!" she snarled, glaring at him as he tucked his wand away and smoothed down his slightly messy dark hair, an arrogant smirk threatening to break free across his lips. Rodolphus was so placid, so calm, sparking Bellatrix's rage to the point where she was ready to rip the metal sign beside her out of the ground and beat him over the head with it.

"Can't you read, Bellatrix?" he snorted, nodding over the sign, the very same that she was planning to use in her murderous fantasy, "We're at the Witches' Foot..."

Bellatrix frowned; they really needed to get some more original names when it came to naming these places. It was almost starting to get sad.  
"I can't believe you thought this was an appropriate place to have a date," Bellatrix sneered, "It seems your standards have hit an all time low."  
"Well, I am dating you," he chuckled, cocking an eyebrow, "My standards are low enough, don't you think?"  
"Can we atleast eat something in this hovel?" she snapped, ignoring his insult with all the patience she could muster. Her stomach gave another rebellious yowl, one loud enough for Rodolphus to hear, and he grinned, "I suppose we don't really have a choice? If they don't feed you, I fear you'll turn into a cannibal on me."  
She wrinkled her nose, "Don't be disgusting... I'd find someone better to eat, if it was my last resort. I'd kill you for the sake of killing you."  
"Charming."  
"I work with what I'm given."  
"Ah."

Bellatrix shivered as the night air whipped across her body, the thin dress she had picked out doing her no good at all. She let out an incoherent threat, then rolled her eyes, "Well... Let's go. I plan on ordering everything on the menu, and you will be paying the bill."  
"Of course," Rodolphus mused, following closely behind her as she stormed toward the door, "I am a gentleman, after all."

She snorted as loudly as she could, and pushed the heavy wooden door open, revealing a rather noisy, rambunctious pub. There was a large bar situated in the back, and a few tables littering the walls for eating, along with several booths. The rest, however, was a crowded little floor in the center where a group of wizards were currently having a duel, while their wives, or girlfriends, or even mistresses watched in awe. They weren't very good, when Bellatrix took a closer look, and she finally assumed it was all an act for one of them to boost their ego.

"How pathetic," Rodolphus commented over the shouting, pushing Bellatrix inside a little more and slamming the door shut, "This is what happens in low-life communites... I bet half of these are Squibs and Mudbloods."  
"Then why are we here?" Bellatrix spat, turning back to face him, her eyes flashing dangerously. Rodolphus gazed down at her, and in all seriousness replied, "Because we are scum, Bella."  
Bellatrix scoffed, then cocked an eyebrow, "Scum? May I remind you, Lestrange, that we are from two of the most pure and noble houses-"  
"We have a mark that brands us as scum, whether we accept the title or not," he stated firmly, clamping down on her upper arm suddenly, "You may not know it, because you're new, but Bella... We are not like the rest of the wizarding world, and I don't think we ever will be."  
Bellatrix shifted her weight from foot to foot, frowning, "But-"  
"We're killers," he whispered, leaning down, his lips brushing her ear, "We torture whoever the Dark Lord asks us to because we enjoy it... We are the scum of this community."

Bellatrix took a step away from him, not liking the idea of sharing any sort of proximity with him. But was he right? They were killers, all of them. She had not completed her first kill yet, and in her dark mind, this was a disadvantage. She was nearly aching to be given an assignment to hunt someone down, torture them for information, then kill them when she finally received it. Perhaps she could make a request with Voldemort...

"Be that as it may," Bellatrix maintained, raising her chin at him, "We are pure and powerful scum... Don't you forget it."  
He seemed as though he wanted to give some snark comment back, but he refrained, then nodded past the crowd to the pair, "Care for something to drink?"  
"No, Lestrange!" she groaned, stepping away from him, "Can't you get it in your thick skull that I'm hungry!"  
"Fine, let's get something to eat then, m'lady," he chuckled, his tone hinted with bits of mockery, "Can't let my Bella go hungry, can I?"  
"Stop calling me that," she snarled, pushing roughly past an elderly man as she made her way over to the bar, "Or Bella will have to turn you into a newt, then step on you."  
"Talking about yourself in third person, always a sign of insanity, love," he chuckled, pulling out a bar stool for her, "Not that I mind insanity or anything."  
"Well, insanity doesn't like you," she snarled, climbing up onto the tall bar stool and shouting down to the barmen, "Service!"  
"Gimme a minute, you," the bar tender snapped, pouring a drink for a rather depressed man in the corner, then slowly making his way over, "Herb's a bit down lately... Gotta pay 'im extra attention, or there's a chance he's off the deep end with 'imself."  
"Fascinating," Rodolphus remarked before Bellatrix could, "Give my date the most expensive meal here, and the both of us will have some whiskey."  
"Give me some absinthe," Bellatrix countered, shooting Rodolphus a look, "Watered down though... Can't have thinking I really find him attractive when all I do see when drunk is a different man."

The bar tender raised his eyebrows, slowly looking between Rodolphus and Bellatrix, then shook his head, "Good luck with that one, mate."  
"I do what I can," Rodolphus cracked, shooting Bellatrix an amused grin when the bar tender toddled off to fix them a meal, "Absinthe, eh? Strong stuff."  
"I'm a strong woman," Bellatrix grunted, her face indifferent to him, "Whiskey just doesn't do it for me anymore."

She turned back to the duel, noticing the younger of the two men was standing over the other, a triumphant gleam in his eye. Apparently he had won, but one look at him and anyone would know that he was not a dueler. His stance was sloppy, he had a loose grip on his wand, and Bellatrix wondered if he actually had enough money to buy a real spell book in order to know any of the more complicated ones required for dueling. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as a teenage girl swept up to him through the crowd, pressing her lips into his, her eyes revealing an emotion so foreign to Bellatrix - true love.

The only other time she had actually seen true, honest love was when she watched Lucius and Narcissa interact, atleast when they weren't surrounded by family members. In public, she could tell they always put on a show to impress others, but on the few times she caught them alone, she became irritated with them both, and usually tried to ruin their moment. Of course, Narcissa would call her something in her usual smooth voice, Lucius would smirk, and they would walk off arm and arm, more in love then then they had been a few moments prior.

And for that, she hated them. Both of them.

"A knut for your thoughts, Bella," Rodolphus said pleasantly as she drifted in and out of thoughts about true love. Finally, she concluded it made people weak, and she would have none of it. Let her baby sister fawn over her husband all she wanted, and let Lucius do anything for his wife; see if she cared.  
"My thoughts are worth more then that," she laughed coldly, "Especially to you of all people."  
She jumped when a plate was dumped noisily in front of her, and forehead instantly started to crease when she stared down at a large bowl of chili, "What the bloody Hell is this?"  
"It's chili, your 'ighness," the bar tender boasted sarcastically, "Best in the area, most expensive in the bar."  
"How... interesting... " she muttered, running her massive spoon through the thick stew boiling in front of her, "Lestrange, what are you eating?"  
"I'm not brave enough for the food here," he laughed, accepting his drinks with a smile, "I figured if I was pissed enough, I wouldn't remember that I'm hungry."

She rolled her eyes and took a tentative nibble of her supper, deciding it was acceptable in her head, but making a face for Rodolphus to see. He smirked, "You know it tastes good, Bella... I don't judge."  
"Oh shut up," she snapped, taking a bigger spoonful of the chili and shoving it in her mouth, thankful to finally be eating something. Once her drink had arrived, she took a large sip, slightly put down that the barman had watered it down almost completely, and she could only just feel the familiar sting of the drink on her tongue.

"You must admit," Rodolphus said suddenly, stealing her bread roll off her plate as she reached for it, "This hasn't been a horrible date."  
"No, it's been a complete and utterly horrid experience that I do not want to repeat again with you," Bellatrix argued, reaching for her stolen bread, "Give that back."

Before she could nab it, he had already taken a bite out of it, and began chewing thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving her face. Finally, when he had swallowed, he cleared his throat, "Why do you hate me, Bella?"  
"Because you keep calling me Bella!" she growled loudly, "And you stole my bread!"  
"You've hated me before tonight," he chuckled, taking another sip of his dark drink, "Why?"  
"Just... because," she snapped, her mind suddenly blanking, "I..."  
"Yes?"  
"You're cocky, arrogant, and for some reason think I want to date you," she forced out, taking that over the silence that would have been there. Rodolphus grinned smugly, "That's it?"  
"There are other reasons," Bellatrix droned, "I just don't feel like listing them to you when I could be eating."

She turned back to her meal sourly and stuffed some more chili in her mouth, gagging when she burned the roof. Damn food was so hot, and she had completely forgotten!

"It doesn't cool down that quickly-"  
"Shut up!" she snarled, wiping the corners of her mouth with the dangerously yellow napkin that came with her plate, "Just... drink your drink and leave me be."  
"We are on a date, Bella."  
"What's your point!?" she shrieked, causing a few men sitting at the bar the glance at the couple, "And stop calling me Bella."  
"I'll call you whatever I damn well please."  
"Not if you want to continue living with your tongue intact you won't!"

Oh, this was going to be a trying evening. Bellatrix glared down at her half-eaten chili, ignoring the man who had decided to make it his mission for the night to get her to smile when he looked her over. Gods, this place was degrading beyond belief.

Well, when she took a good look at it, she guessed it wasn't too bad. It was dark, full of drunk and slightly depressed men, all talking loudly and cursing at each other about some stupid topic. It was so different from the places she usually went. For once, she didn't have to sit up straight with a snow coloured napkin draped across her lap. There was no one here to nag at her when she ate too much, or used her hand to wipe her mouth. It was actually sort of... nice, in a twisted way.  
Twisted. That seemed the only word to suit her life now.

The rest of the evening Bellatrix decided it was time to be civil to Rodolphus, as he had done a good thing when he brought her to this place. She was relaxed, at ease amongst the men who all seemed suited for Azkaban, if anyone looked deeply at them.

With Rodolphus's help, she managed to fend off two men who tried to flirt their way up her skirt, and by the end of it both left the bar dejected, and probably with a fraction of their small self-esteem left. They made a good team when it came to degrading people.

Midnight rolled around much faster then she had imagined, and by that time, both she and Rodolphus were only slightly under the influence, just enough to make Bellatrix bite her tongue when it came to sneering at him.

"C'mon... Let's shove off then," Rodolphus muttered, helping her off of the bar stool, which had actually become really uncomfortable by this point, and leading her out of the pub. It was almost an obstacle course to go through, avoiding the stumbling drunk, while ducking out of the way as the very same young teenage girl hurled her drink at the victor from that night's duel, spitting that he was a pig and storming off.

"Tonight was... acceptable," she said when they were free from the smoky tavern at last, "I suppose I enjoyed myself."  
"Now there's what every man wants to hear!" he boomed, wrapping his arm around her waist and keeping her by him, "Be truthful, Bella... You had fun with me."  
"I managed," she said firmly, glancing down at his arm, "Now let's apparate me home, so I can go wash the smoke out of my clothes... Mother will think I was smoking again... I wish I had brought a pack."

She had left everything in her stupid cloak, and she wished she hadn't dropped it.  
"We'll go in a minute..." he breathed, turning her to face him, "You liked being with me, tonight."  
"Fine... I had as much fun as can be expected without a real drink and some smokes," she sighed, her eyes gleaming with sarcasm, "Happy?"  
"Not... quite," he muttered, dipping his head down, "Almost."

Her protest was muffled when a firm pair of lips pressed themselves into hers, and she let out a groan when his hand came round to cup her backside.

Normally she would have gone with it, but for some reason... She couldn't.

"Get the Hell off of me, Lestrange!" she shouted, shoving him away with all her might, causing him to stumble a bit, "What you think because you bought me something to eat I'm just going run along and crawl into bed with you?!"  
"Why not!?" he demanded savagely, "You do it with every other wizard alive... Why should I be any different?!"  
"Get away from me!" she snarled, turning on her heel and stomping off down the wet path, the mud splashing up and soaking the hem of her dress. Apparently it had rained sometime recently. Wonderful.

"Where are you going to go, Black?!" she heard him yell, "There's nothing around here for miles!"  
"Piss off!" she shouted, shooting him a glare over her shoulder. She'd find a way home. She was Bellatrix fucking Black, she thought angrily, and did not need a man to bring her home.  
Not now, not ever.  
Never.


	13. Kill

Bellatrix stumbled through the forest, snarling at the root that dared to stick out of the ground and snag her dress, or trip her. The little path she had decided to follow away from the pub only led her to a wooded area, and though she hoped through the wooded area would be some sort of city, she knew there was nothing.

However, she had noticed an elderly man who had been casually strolling along a different path, maybe twenty or so feet ahead of her. There was a good chance he had a wand, one that she could borrow to help her get home.

A feral grin crossed her face, and within moments, she had slipped into the darkest shadows of the trees, kicking off her shoes to allow herself the perfect silence. The black stockings she had worn were instantly soaked right through, but she ignored the coldness and concentrated on her prey. The man clearly had no life, as he was walking through a forest, by himself, at almost one in the morning.

No wife would allow that. Atleast, Bellatrix wouldn't.

The man paused for a moment, his head cocked in her direction, causing Bellatrix to freeze in mid-step, the points of her fingers pressed against a tree trunk for support. Had he heard her? No, he couldn't! She was deathly silent, a ghost gliding over the ground. She could hardly hear herself.  
He waited, the continued on, grumbling something incoherent to himself. Bellatrix let out the air she had been holding in, then decided it was time to move faster. She moved with elegance, grace. Her moves were feline and predatory, and as she leaned down to pick up her weapon, a rather pointed rock, her grin had blown up into a full blown carnivorous smile. Then, she attacked.

Her blow to his head came in sheer silence, but once it started, the forest was awake. An owl fluttered out of the trees as the man tumbled to the ground. A night fox scampered away from the rat it had been feasting upon as she rammed the rock repeatedly down on her target, a giggle escaping her lips as she did. And finally, a wolf let out a lonely cry when the man chocked on the blood that had drained into his mouth; Bellatrix moved in at last for her kill.

Her hands barely fit around his large neck, but she managed, and though he struggled, she was too powerful for him, and in less than a minute he twitched no more, his eyes rolling back into his head when she let go.

Her slim hands were covered in a red, thick liquid, and for a moment, it didn't quite register in her mind that it was his blood. For nearly five minutes she kneeled beside his lifeless body, just staring at her hands, her heart pounding with adrenaline. Finally, she remembered she needed the wand, and she began to search the body.

"Where are you?" she whispered, her voice high and cold as her hands skimmed over his body. Upon realizing there was nothing on him, no wand, no nothing, Bellatrix slammed the rock into his face once more, then rose, turning in a complete circle. Now she was totally alone. The animals had fled during her killing, and her victim could have been some poor Muggle, for all she knew.

The march back from where she came from was painful, and the stench of blood followed her every way she went. The aroma would swell each time she looked back, and it caused her to keep staring dead ahead. For some reason, this time she did not trip as often. She could not find her shoes, but she figured she would be better off without them. Those damn heels did nothing but slow her down.

When she made it back to the main road, she crouched behind some bushes, her knees beginning to burn painfully as she waited for some lone drunk to stumble her way. Rodolphus was no where in sight, and she assumed he had gone home as soon as she stormed off.

How could men just sit at a pub until three in the morning? Bellatrix fumed silently in her bush, until she spotted her next victim. He was a slim young man, stumbling dangerous as he tromped out of the tavern. His wand was hanging loosely in his hand, and it appeared that he was trying to apparate; and failing miserably.

"Tut, tut, young man," Bellatrix purred as she stepped out of the bush, causing the boy's head to snap up in her direction, "It seems you're having some trouble?"  
"I... Just too much to drink," he mumbled, closing his eyes as his face screwed up, as though he was trying to concentrate on apparating, "Can't picture my house... I-"  
He froze, his eyes open suddenly, and traveling down to her hands, "What... What's on your hands?"  
"I painted them," she replied casually, strolling toward him with a sway in her hips, "I painted them with blood."  
"Stay away from me..." he ordered weakly, his eyes slipping in and out of focus, "You psycho... Get away from me-"  
"Hush, let me help you," she giggled, finally closing the gap between them, her strong hands prying the wand out of his drunken state, "Imperius."

Within a moment of her pointing the wand at himself and muttering the Unforgivable, the man was under her spell, waiting to be instructed to do something. Bellatrix smirked, "Bash your head against the wall until you die."

"Head. Wall. Die..." he muttered softly, bumbling past her to the side of the bar, slamming his head painfully into the rock wall. Bellatrix watched for a moment, her heart racing feverishly. She had ordered a man to kill himself, and he was doing it!

She couldn't go home in this state. No, it would cause too much of a panic with her mother and her sister. Instead, she focused on the one place she wanted to truly be, and after feeling the familiar squeezing sensation that always went along with an apparation, she was standing in the Dark Lord's library, and to her shock, he was seated in one of the chairs, a thick book clutched in his hands, and a glass of some sort of liquid resting on the table beside him.

She stood silently, then dropped the foreign wand, breaking the silence between the two. Voldemort cocked an eyebrow and looked her over, "Good morning, Bella."  
"I meant to... go into the classroom..." she muttered sheepishly, suddenly noticing the mud that had splashed all of his fine rug from the bottom of her dress, "Stupid wand didn't wand to work properly for me."

His eyes focused on her hands for a moment, and he finally shut his book, placing it on the small table with his drink, "I can already tell, without prying into your mind, that you've had an interesting evening."  
"Rodolphus left me..." Was all Bellatrix could get out as Voldemort rose, his hands clasped behind his back, "A-And he made me leave my wand behind."  
"Come now, little girl, let's try to speak in full sentences," he chuckled as he circled her, "Explain to me why you are shoeless, wandless and nearly all covered in blood?"  
"I promised Rodolphus a date if he would lie to my mother for me," Bellatrix began, wiping her hands on her dress, "And then he told me, when he came to pick me up, that we were going to a ruddy pub in some low class village!"  
"Oh, how dare he," Voldemort chuckled sarcastically, his eyebrows raised in mock shock, "Go on."  
"So we have our date, which was nice... I had chili for dinner..." Bellatrix rambled, "And then he tried to uh... kiss me, after everything, and I told him no, and we had a bit of a fight, and I sort of stormed off into the woods."  
"That explains the mud," he mused, rubbing his chin, "And your wand? And the blood?"

"I dropped it in... shock when Lestrange told me we were going to some pub," Bellatrix sighed, rolling her eyes, "And then I killed a man for his wand, but he didn't have one on him... So I had to find another one, and I took his, and I used the Imperius Curse to make him kill himself."

Voldemort had stopped pacing, and she could feel the back of her head tingling; he was checking her mind. After a moment or so, he took a step back, an appraising look in his eye, "Two in one night... I underestimated my Bella. I'm proud of you."  
Bellatrix dropped to her knees, crawling toward him and resting at his feet, "I want to kill for you, my Lord."

"I know, little girl," he laughed, placing a hand on her slightly messy hair, "And you will... I promise you will. Not tonight. I think you've killed enough. Did you know their names?"  
"No," she answered truthfully, "And I didn't care, either."  
"That's my girl," he croaked affectionately, "Stand up."

She scrambled to her feet, her breathing hitching in her throat as he trailed a hand over her stomach, then down to her hips, "Such a pretty little killer, aren't you?"  
"Only for you, my Lord," she murmured, tilting her head up to his, "May I ask you something?"  
"Hmm?"  
"Why are you still awake?"  
"I couldn't sleep," he replied casually, his hand now curving lazily around her back, "Why don't you try and help me, little girl?"  
"I don't know what I could do," she remarked, wrapping her arms around his neck, "My Lord, I really need to shower-"  
He cut her off with a kiss, a sharp one, biting at her lower lip for a second, then dragging himself away, "I suppose you do... You stink of death, and now so do I."  
"You always smell of death..." she argued, allowing her hands to fall down his chest when he stepped away, "Only now does it bother you?"  
"Nonsense, little girl," he declined coldly, "You said it yourself... Your needs should be met. I'm calling a meeting soon... You'll be given an assignment, and a partner for it."  
"Why do I need a partner?" Bellatrix inquired, wrinkling her nose, "You know I can-"  
"All of my Death Eaters are skilled, little girl," he explained, plopping back down into his seat and retrieving his book, "Two minds are better than one, even one as twisted yours."

"You flatter me, my Lord," Bellatrix droned, finally deciding that being called Twisted by Voldemort was not such a bad thing. The Dark Lord grinned as he found his page, "Do I? I didn't mean to. Go home, Bella. You may use my fireplace."

She watched him for a moment, then picked up her dress, trying to keep anymore mud and dirty water from dripping on his floor. With the same elegance she possessed in the forest, Bellatrix floated across the room, her feet making no noise as she moved.

"Oh, and Bella?"  
"Yes, my Lord?" she answered, quickly turning back to face his face, which was currently turned away from her. Voldemort chuckled, "No more killing without my order... We don't want too much attention. Not yet, anyway."  
"When then, my Lord?"  
"When the time is right."


	14. Genuine Affection

Bellatrix stood silently in the large circle, her eyes tracking the Dark Lord as he strolled amongst his followers, murmuring something private to some as he passed. She was slightly jealous when he passed without a word, but the look in his eyes managed to keep her satisfied.

Men stood beside her, but she had no clue who they were. Nor did she care, for that matter. Tonight was the night Voldemort put them in pairs, and gave them his most important tasks. She was sure most of them were just to retrieve information, but it thrilled Bellatrix nonetheless.  
Rodolphus had put her in hot waters with her mother, as he had informed the blasted woman that he would no longer be taking Bellatrix to Narcissa's wedding, and he hoped she found a date in time, on her own. Bah, let him go off with some tart then. Trivial matters, like some wedding, honestly had no effect on Bellatrix's life, in its current state.

When he had completed his rounds in the circle of sober men, Voldemort began calling them in pairs to him, to inform them of their assignments. Crabbe and Goyle, Rosier and Nott, McNair and Rohas; the members dwindled and soon they were down to four people - herself, Rodolphus Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape. Though it was childish, she pleaded with him, if he could hear her mentally, to put her with Malfoy or Snape. Should she be placed with Rodolphus, she may end up killing him, or vice versa.

"Lestrange..." Voldemort called smoothly, his tongue hissing over the 's' in his name, "Step forth."

The man at Bellatrix's right moved up, and she glared at the back of his head, hoping he tripped over his robe, or something. However, he did not, and she was almost envious the arrogance in his step; envious and disgusted.

"I want you working with..." Voldemort paused, his dark eyes scanning over the trio behind Rodolphus, "Malfoy."

Bellatrix let out a sigh of relief, then wrinkled her nose, realizing she was left to work with that boy Severus Snape. Apparently he and Narcissa were in the same house, and the same year. The only reason Bellatrix would have known him was through her sister and Lucius, as it seemed he and Snape were very close friends. She couldn't quite understand why; Malfoy seemed to prefer having friends who were his age or older. Snape was nearly five years his junior.

Rodolphus and Lucius disappeared, just like the rest of the couples had done, off to discuss their assignments, leaving Bellatrix and Severus standing alone before the Dark Lord.

"Ah, Black and Snape," he cooed, clasping his hands behind his back and looking down at the pair, "There is a woman who lives in Scotland, her name is Bernice Williams, and she is currently... romantically linked to the Minister."

Oh, scandal in the Ministry of Magic. Bellatrix grinned; the Minister was already married, and now there was another woman? Tsk, tsk. He was supposed the be the model of their society.

"I want you to go and find out everything she knows about the Minister," Voldemort ordered, his elegant voice caressing Bellatrix's ears as she listened carefully, "I'm sure she has picked up something or another... The mistresses always know the most."  
"Are we to kill her once we're finished, my Lord?" Snape inquired, his voice showing a modest indifference that almost made Bellatrix proud. Voldemort eyed them both, then grinned, "You'd both like that, wouldn't you?"  
"Yes, my Lord."  
"I haven't assigned a death to either of you, have I?"  
"No, my Lord."  
"So be it... Kill her when you've finished."

Bellatrix glanced at Snape, a twisted smile on her lips, "With pleasure, my Lord."

The way he tossed about the order so casually made Bellatrix shiver, and when he had dismissed them, she remained standing before him until he had apparated away, shooting her a curious expression before leaving.

"So how long have you two been shagging?" Severus inquired, ripping off his skull-like mask and smirking. Bellatrix removed hers too and pushed back her hood, glaring at him, "What?!"  
"Well, it's obvious to people with a sodding brain that you two are going at it," Snape explained, rolling his eyes and removing a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, "Smoke?"  
"Smoking is bad for someone so young," she snapped prudishly, snatching the cigarette away and lighting it with her wand, "Little boys shouldn't smoke."  
"When did you start smoking?"  
Bellatrix paused for a moment, taking a long inhale, then exhaling a swirl of grey, "I was fourteen."  
"Then don't be a hypocrite."

She cocked an eyebrow and watched as he took a drag, blowing smoke out of his nose slowly. Perhaps it wouldn't be too difficult working with Snape after all. Atleast with him she could have a smoke and not be judged.

They decided it would be best to discuss their plan of attack on another day, as it was getting late, and both had been invited to the wedding of Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy the next day. Bellatrix cringed at the very idea. She wasn't too sure how she would handle a whole day of all the Blacks and Malfoys in one home. It had happened several times before, but Bellatrix usually made up an excuse and managed to sneak off. This time, being the Maid of Honour, she was forced to remain with her sister until the damn girl was completely married, and could no longer call herself a Black.

Bidding Severus farewell, and thanking him for the cigarette gruffly, Bellatrix strolled off toward her apparation point. After waiting several minutes in the dark to finish her smoke, she dropped it on the ground and stubbed it out with her boot, casting a cleansing spell with her wand to make sure she didn't smell, just incase she ran into her mother.

Once home, her nightly routine of washing up and stripping into her slim nightie fell into order, and before she knew it, she was fast asleep, her dreams filled with smoking Dark Lords and distorted Severus Snapes.

Bellatrix quite enjoyed her dreams, and was put in an extremely foul mood when she felt something land on her bed at nearly six the next morning, only four hours after she had gone to sleep. Groaning, she rolled over and groggily looked down at the end of her bed, glaring at her sister, "What the bloody fuck do you want?"  
"Be nice, Bella," Narcissa giggled, patting her foot, "I'm getting married today!"

"Yes... I know," Bellatrix grumbled, snuggling back under her covers, "And you're going to be up until Merlin knows how late tonight satisfying Malfoy, so why don't you just go back to sleep?"  
"Don't be disgusting," Narcissa sniped, flicking her slightly messy blonde hair back over her shoulders, "Besides... I just had my first batch of morning sickness today, and I can't get back to sleep after I've had it."  
"Ugh! Now you stop being disgusting!" Bellatrix cried, holding her hands over her ears, "If you feel sick again, you know where the bathroom is... Vomit on my bed and Lucius will be marrying a corpse."  
"My, you are in a rotten mood today," Narcissa commented, crawling up the bed and curling up next to Bellatrix, something they used to do on stormy nights when they were children, "What's the matter? Lucius said you and Rodolphus had a row."  
"He tried to get me into bed," Bellatrix explained stiffly, rolling over to face her sister, "And I told him to piss off. I wouldn't call it a row. And I'm tired, Cissy... Go away."

"I will not go away," she laughed, pulling up the covers and gliding under, "Come on, Bella... This is my last day living in the manor, and the last day as your unwed, single baby sister. Let's spend some time together!"  
"Can't we do it later?" Bellatrix murmured moodily, shutting her eyes and letting out a sigh. Her sister shook her lightly and her eyes snapped open, glaring down at the blonde, "What?!"  
"I'm scared."

Bellatrix let out a groan and rubbed her face, realizing all hopes of getting some sleep were gone, "Why? You love him, don't you?"  
"Yes."  
"And you're having his baby... Right?"  
"Right."  
"So what's there to be afraid of?"  
"Everything!" Narcissa cried, rolling onto her back and staring at the ceiling, "What if I'm not a good wife? What if he cheats on me? What if we fight all the time?!"  
"Cissy, hush," Bellatrix instructed, rolling her eyes indignantly, "I don't understand you! You're in love with the man, and I've seen him with you... He loves you. I don't know why, but he does."  
"Thanks..."  
"I'm being totally serious with you," Bellatrix continued, "He'd never cheat on you. And you're only eighteen... How the Hell are you supposed to know how to be a wife? Lucius knows that... I don't really see him wanting a perfect wife anyway... His parents are less traditional then ours, as I'm sure you've noticed."

Lucius' father was a man of the country, completely in love with Muggle hunting and gambling at the poker matches. They boasted loathing for Muggles, but the elder Malfoys were always playing their activities. They were like little children, those old Malfoys, and the Muggle games were their hobbies.

"They like me... the Malfoys," Narcissa admitted, "They always take me shopping..."  
"See, if Malfoy starts acting like an arse, just go complain to his mother. I'm sure she'll set him straight!"  
Narcissa giggled softly and turned back to face her sister, "I'm going to miss you, Bella."  
Though it almost pained Bellatrix to admit it, she did, "I'm going to miss you, too, Cissy..."

Her sister sniffled loudly, and she noticed her eyes had welled up. Well, Narcissa may cry, but that was definitely something she was not going to do. They stayed in bed for a long time, talking and gossiping, something Bellatrix felt she hadn't done with her sister in ages. She had been so wrapped up in Voldemort, respectively, that she couldn't remember the last time they acted like sisters, and not just acquaintances. Finally, when it was almost after eleven, their mother tore into the room and snarled that they had less than two hours before guests would start to arrive at the Black Manor, and they could not be lazing around in bed all day.

With that, Narcissa floated back to her room, several house elves following at her heels to help her get ready, while Bellatrix changed into her dress. As promised, Narcissa made all the bridesmaids wear black dresses, while Bellatrix's had a gold pattern etched in it to show her importance.

Once dressed, Bellatrix shadowed up her eyes with dark make-up, then went down to greet the guests, who were arriving in droves, it seemed.  
"Oi, Malfoy," she snapped upon spotting Lucius, "You and I need to talk."  
"I was just about to get dressed, Black," Lucius remarked curtly, holding up his pressed suit, "Another time."  
"No. Now."

She grabbed him by the tips of his hair and pulled him outside, despite the cold, and slammed the door. The sky was clouding over, and Bellatrix could feel the air changing; it was going to rain.

"What the bloody Hell do you-"  
"You don't need to talk, Malfoy," Bellatrix said sharply, her eyes narrowing, "You need to listen. You are marrying my baby sister, and I love her. If you cheat on her, I'll have every hanging appendage removed."  
"Bellatrix-"  
"If you hurt her," Bellatrix continued, taking a menacing step forward, "I will make sure you suffer. Is that clear?"  
Lucius laughed, the sound coming out in a barking sort of way, "Now, really, Bellatrix... I am very much in love with your sister... I wouldn't dream of cheating on her."  
"Good, because dreaming about it also warrants the loss of all things hanging off that body," Bellatrix sneered, rubbing her bare arms, "We're finished."  
"Good."

He escorted her back inside, like a gentleman should, then left her to get changed in one of the numerous rooms in the lower levels of the house, where the rest of the men that were part of the wedding ceremony were.

Bellatrix's eyes drifted across the sea of people in the front hall, many thrusting cloaks rudely into the hands of her obedient house elves, other laughing loudly and escorting one another into the dining hall. The wedding was going to be held in the dining hall, as it was the largest, and she was sure they were going to find some seats before the event began.

"Yes, yes this is Katherine... She's a dear friend of mine."

Bellatrix followed the sound of a familiar voice, and she spied Rodolphus leading a rather graceful looking redhead into her manor, the woman's slim arm resting on his. Bellatrix rolled her eyes and decided to check on Narcissa. She strolled loudly across the room toward the large staircase, making eye contact with Rodolphus for a breif moment, then continuing upstairs, ignoring the feeling that he was watching her.

The rest of the afternoon carried on in the usual social normality. Bellatrix's father gave Narcissa away to Lucius, and the whole family clapped politely when they shared their first kiss as husband and wife. Her sister looked so ... happy. Once again, Bellatrix hated her.

The band started up, and everything about the wedding ceremony reminded Bellatrix of all the parties she had been to in the past, all the times she had been verbally abused by her mother for looking different, or sneered at by the men in her life for trying to be.

She didn't want it anymore. She didn't want to see Narcissa so happy with her new husband. She didn't want to see Severus and Rodolphus laughing about something as they sipped away on their drinks!

She ordered her personal house elf to fetch her pack of cigarettes, then slipped outside into the back garden, which trailed down a hill slightly. She sat on the grass, ignoring the fact that she was freezing, the grass crunchy beneath her. With a lone cigarette clasped in her fingers, she lit it with her wand, bringing it to her mouth to inhale. However, after a few moments, there was a loud crack of thunder across the dark skies, and as though Merlin did not want her to smoke, the Heavens opened, and within seconds she was soaked. Bellatrix tossed her wasted cigarette down the hill and glared solemnly across her property, wondering if anyone had noticed her absence.

Then, as if on cue, she heard Rodolphus chuckling behind her, "See, Bella... It's not good for you to smoke."  
"Fuck off, Lestrange," she sighed, rising up slowly, the weight of her dress dragging, "I'm sure your date is very lonely."  
"My date left..." he informed her, grabbing her arm as she went to shove past him, "Where's the fight today, Bella?"  
"Stop calling me Bella!" she snarled, ripping her arm away, "Why did your date leave?"  
"I was constantly staring at something more attractive," he murmured, shooting her a small smile, "Something... Someone who I shouldn't look at, but I still do."  
"My sister is off limits, now... Tough luck-"  
"Don't be stupid," he hissed gruffly, grasping her arm once more when she tried to walk away, "I was looking at you!"  
"Now, why, oh why, would you do that?" she inquired, her sneering persona finally returning, "I believe we left on rather bad terms, eh Lestrange?"  
"I bring out the best in you, don't I, Bellatrix?" he purred, not looking at her face as she glared at the side of his head, "You were sitting out here, all depressed, and then I come along, and you're happy."

"What makes you think I'm happy?" she demanded, still aware that he was holding her. Rodolphus finally looked at her, his eyes boring into hers, "Because the taunting is back in your voice... You're happy when you have someone to jeer at."  
"That's not true-"  
"Dance with me, love."  
Bellatrix frowned, "What?"  
"Dance with me-"  
"I heard you," she insisted, taking a step away, "I'm wondering why you want to dance in the rain..."  
"Because then I can hold you close... Warm you up a little..." he chuckled, curving his arm around her lower back and grabbing her hand, placing it on his shoulder.

They were back on even ground now, and Bellatrix continued to stare at him, shocked as he took her free hand and they began a waltz, "Listen to the music, Bellatrix."  
"You're insane."  
"We're a pair, then."

The droplets of water pooled on Bellatrix's skin momentarily, then slid down, soaking her undergarments as they stuck to her. Her dress was completely soaked, and so heavy she just wanted to be rid of it. Rodolphus was also drenched, his usually gelled hair hanging in his face, and he seemed as though he wanted to rid himself of his dress cloak.

"They're watching us..." he commented, nodding to the large windows that surrounded the nearby dining hall, "I'm sure your mother is in there clucking at us."  
"Let them," she muttered. "Let them watch."

They twirled in the rain soaked patches of grass, finally making their way onto the patio, their eyes locked. Finally, the sound of a door sliding open made Bellatrix glance back, and she frowned she spotted Narcissa.

"Is this a private dance floor?" her sister inquired, a cheeky grin on her face, "Or may we join you?"  
Bellatrix's jaw dropped as Narcissa and Lucius stepped outside, amidst the hissing for her to get back and save her beautiful white gown and perfect hair. Bellatrix shook her head, "Cissy... Your dress-"  
"It's only water, Bella." Narcissa laughed as Lucius pulled her playfully into the same position as she and Rodolphus were in, "Besides... I haven't gotten a chance to share a dance with my sister yet..."

Rodolphus began to move again, and both pairs began a rather swift waltz, Lucius and Narcissa sharing silent kisses every so often. Bellatrix watched her sister, envious yet again, as she smiled lovingly up at Lucius, and he returned the smiles with rare ones of his own, their bodies pressed against each other.

"They suit each other, don't they?" Rodolphus murmured in her ear, causing her to flinch at his lips gently touching her. She nodded, "I suppose."  
"You're jealous."  
"No."  
"Bellatrix, love, you are."

She rolled her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder, her eyes still lingering on her content sister, "I'm happy with my life-"  
"But there's something missing?" he suggested, "I know."  
Bellatrix frowned suddenly, lifting her head, "I don't know why I'm telling you, Lestrange-"  
"I do..." he chuckled, "Take a walk with me and I'll tell you."


	15. Cry baby, cry

"Lestrange... Where the bloody Hell are we going?" Bellatrix demanded, rolling her eyes as Rodolphus pulled her away from the large manor and into the back field, the rain still pounding down on the pair. He chuckled softly and stopped so abruptly that Bellatrix walked into him.

"Well? Now what?" she snapped, ripping her hand away from his finally and cocking an eyebrow, "You dragged me all the way out here-"  
"I think you like me, Bella."  
"Oh, and what have I been doing to make you think that?" she spat, crossing her arms, "Tell me, so I can stop."

How could he be so cocky and full of himself? The arrogant bastard. Sure, she may find him attractive, but that did not mean she liked him in a fancying sort of way. Well, when she really thought about it, she had some sort of admiration for him, working for the Dark Lord and all.

"Bella... I know you desire someone else, I do," he sighed, blowing his soaking hair out of his face, then finally brushing it away when it wouldn't move, "But you will never win his heart, so why try?"

Bellatrix's eyes widened, and she suddenly felt a little uncomfortable. Clearing her throat loudly, she tried the best she could to maintain her bored tone as she scoffed, "And who do you think I 'desire', as you so elegantly put it, Lestrange?"  
He remained silent for what seemed like forever, just staring down at her with his dark eyes, as if they wanted to eat her alive. Finally, Bellatrix spoke, her voice thick with annoyance, "I suppose you know then?"  
"Severus mentioned something about you avoiding the subject when it came to you and the Dark Lord, you see," he chuckled deeply, reaching out and delicately playing with a hint of her drenched hair, a piece that had fallen from the half-up half-down hair style she had done hastily before the ceremony, "He won't ever love you back, Bella."  
Bellatrix slapped his hand away with all her might, her eyes narrowing at the man before her, "How dare you!"  
"I'm merely stating a fact, Bella love," he tutted, raising his eyebrows, "You love the Dark Lord."  
"I most certainly do not!" she shrieked, her heart quickening at the accusation, "He's a brilliant man who I happen to admire, Lestrange... Which is more than I can say for you!"  
"Do you shag all men you admire?" he inquired, his eyes flickering with cruel amusement, "I never knew you admired the hordes of men you let crawl up your skirt-"

Bellatrix slapped him harshly, her hand stinging when she drew it away from his wet face, her breathing still heavy, and her rage growing with the moment as he continued to smile. Bellatrix glared up at him, trying to size the older man into submission, "I don't think most people grin after being slapped, Lestrange."  
"It's just funny that you become so insulted with the truth," he admitted, straightening up and smoothing his hand over his wet robes mockingly, almost as if to regain his poise, "Bellatrix... I think you should settle for me, instead of living a life of hopes that will never happen."  
"Don't presume to tell me how I'm going to live my life," she growled, stepping a little closer, "You know nothing-"  
"I know enough, Bella," he croaked, dragging her in completely with a swift movement of his arm around her back, pressing her up against him, "I know that you tell me things because you're lonely, though you'll never admit it. I know it pains you to let anyone think you're weak... I do not think you are weak, Bellatrix."

His last few words were very punctuated, as though trying to make a point. Her arms hung loosely at her side, until she finally curled them up between the pair, as though she wanted to push him away, but didn't. The small barrier was all she needed.

"How do I know you aren't playing with me, Lestrange?" she inquired, her voice shaking, "People have always thought me to be weak."  
"Like who?" he laughed, his laughter warm for a change, "Any man I know would tell you the opposite, I'm afraid."  
"My mother, for one," she droned, her finger tips suddenly playing with the buttons of his shirt, "She always calls me weak... I'm a disgrace to her."  
"You're mother, I must admit, is a graying hag that thought Evan Rosier suitable for a free spirit like Andromeda," he breathed, her eyes flickering up to his at the mention of her sister's name, "You are not weak, Bellatrix. Come... We are suited, don't you agree?"  
"No."  
"Oh, but you must," he snickered, grasping her arms against and starting to twirl her around the muddy field, "We dance so wonderfully together."  
"You are mad, Rodolphus Lestrange..."  
"Like I said before, we're a match, my Bella."

Bellatrix cocked an eyebrow, then let out a sigh, "I suppose I'd like to get out of my mother's house before I turn thirty."  
"That's soon, I believe," he mused, spinning them both on the spot, Bellatrix clutching to him a little tighter from fear of falling over, "So I think we should hurry things up, don't you?"

"I do not want to marry you, Lestrange," she cooed, causing him to grin, "But perhaps we could... associate on more... dates, like the one we had a little while ago."  
"Where you told me to piss off, then tromped off into the woods?" Rodolphus purred, "Yes, I could use some more amusement in my life."

Ah. Yes, that night. Her first kill. She wanted to do it again; she had gotten a high off of it that no other sort of pleasure had ever given her before. Well, being with Voldemort for the night came pretty damn close, but most of the men in her life had never satisfied her to the extent that killing a person had.

A gust of wind swept across the open field, and Bellatrix felt the skin on her arms and neck pimple, then came a soft shudder from her lips. Rodolphus smirked, then paused their dancing, wrapping her under his coat and suggesting they continue this conversation inside, where it was dry. She wholeheartedly agreed, and when they walked back up to her home, she noticed her sister and her new husband had also escaped the chilly rain by seeking shelter inside. However, as soon as she stepped a foot in the moderately heated house, her mother dragged her off, prattling on about Bellatrix being an embarrassment, and that she was going to catch her death by frolicking about outside in the rain. She noticed Lucius smirking at her from the other side of the room, a towel hung over his shoulders and his wet hair hanging loosely as Narcissa served them both something to drink.

"Why aren't you yelling at Narcissa?" Bellatrix demanded, her tone laced with honey-venom, "She went out and ruined her wedding dress."  
"She's a married woman now, and can do what she wishes!" her mother trilled when they were finally out in a separate hall and away from all the guests, "As for you... You should be inside, chatting things up with Lestrange-"  
"I was doing that outside, mother, and we're going on another date."

Her mother looked up at her, as she was a hint shorter, but somehow managed to still glare down her pointed nose at Bellatrix, "Fine. So you have some uses. I don't understand why he wants you at all, to be honest."  
"You've never been terribly clever, mother-"

Her mother cut her off by slapping her sharply across the face, causing Bellatrix to stagger back and lean against the wall in shock; her mother had never struck her like that before!  
"You are embarrassing our family, Bellatrix," her mother snarled, "So I suggest you grow up and start acting like an adult, or I will start treating you like the selfish brat you are and punish you like a child."  
"Yes, mother," Bellatrix snarled tightly, her eyes narrowing at the plump woman in front of her, "Let me go dry off, and I'll be back."  
"Fine."

Bellatrix watched as her mother tromped back toward the dining hall, her walk changing slowly from an angry one to a graceful one, and she moved with agonizing slowness as she entered the large room, like a lady should. Frustrated, Bellatrix picked up her soaking skirts and hurled herself up the stairs, locked herself in her room, then began searching for her wand. Once she finally found it, she apparated to her classroom, collapsing in a confused, wet and sobbing mess on the floor, much to Voldemort's shock.


	16. Rejection

Bellatrix had never really broken down before. Oh, of course, there were her violent fits of rage that usually occurred whenever she was feeling particularly frustrated, but this was somehow different. That damn Lestrange was confusing her, her mother was irritating her to no end, and her cheek officially had no feeling left in it. For the first time; she cried.

Half of her mind told her to buck up. She was a grown woman, and shouldn't be bawling in the corner of some dark room just because she was stressed out with her life. However, another portion abruptly silenced the nagging side, telling her she needed to let it out sometime, lest she have a huge breakdown later down the road.

Her whole body was shaking, almost violently, and her breathing was in heaves, tears streaming down her face. It had never, ever been this bad for her. Her hands rattled silently as she cupped her face, taking deep breathes in a failing attempt to calm herself.

"Bellatrix?"

Oh. Gods. Of course he just had to be in his classroom the day she finally looses her mind and breaks down into a crying fit. Her gaze slowly drifted up and she saw he was towering over her, his eyes cast down to hers, "Bellatrix... What...?"

Her muddled brain tried to form some coherent sentence, but every time she made an attempt to spit it out, nothing came. Soundlessly, her mouth opened and closed several times, and she sniffled loudly, wiping away the running eye make-up swiftly. Finally, he kneeled down in front of her and raised an eyebrow, "My, my, little girl... What on Earth has induced this?"  
"I..." she sniffled again, suddenly feeling utterly stupid, "I don't know... "

He didn't touch her, though she desperately wanted him to. Any sort of contact was on Bellatrix's mind, for the moment. She crawled forward, grasping one of his hands and kissing it, "I'm sorry to come to you like this... I... I just wanted to get out of my house."  
"Why are you wet?" he inquired curiously, twisting a lock of hair between his fingers, "Wet and crying... Dear me, Bella, crying is usually a reason to keep women out of my services."  
"I'm not usually like this..." she whined, hating the way her voice made her sound like some pathetic child, "I just... I have been having so many horrible days... I suppose you think that sounds a little stupid."  
"Yes... Yes I do," he laughed dryly, finally sitting down completely in front of her, his legs crossed and a stern look on his face, "You know that there will always be difficult days for you, when you serve me, Bella."  
"I know..." she murmured, sniffling as softly as she could to avoid disgusting him, "I suppose I shouldn't let it build up, eh? Can I go kill someone?"

She caught his eye, and she noticed he was finally starting to smile a little, only a hint, and he patted her knee, his hand resting there, "Now, now, Bella. I will not allow a senseless, sloppy killing spree each time you are frustrated with Rodolphus Lestrange and your mother."

Her cheeks tinted, and she knew he had probed her mind without her even realizing it. He was a sneaky one, this Lord Voldemort.

"Well, mother slapped me because I called her thick," Bellatrix argued, raising her head and tossing what fallen hair that threatened to dangle over her eyes back, "I think that justifies some sort of killing."  
"Bella..." he scolded firmly, which made her grin, then inform him she was only joking. From that moment on, she watched him, Rodolphus' words ringing over and over in her head. She did not love the Dark Lord, she was sure of it, but there was something. Whether it be a harsh affection, or an odd admiration, she could feel it.

"You never answered my question," he stated loudly, bringing her from her thoughts, "And I do hate to be ignored, Bellatrix."  
She bit her lip, desperately trying to recall what he had asked her probably only moments ago. He cocked an eyebrow, then sighed, "Why are you wet, girl?"  
"Oh!" she blurted softly, fiddling with the drenched fabric of her dress, "Oh, well, I ... I was out in the rain."  
"With Lestrange, I take it."  
Bellatrix frowned, "My Lord, if you already knew the answer, why did you ask?"  
"Do I need a reason?"

Bellatrix shifted awkwardly; yes, yes people usually had reasons behind the questions they asked. They weren't just random thoughts. Unless they did not know the answer, usually people remained silent. But, then again, Voldemort was anything but usual.

"No... No, you never need a reason, my Lord," Bellatrix sighed, casting her eyes down, which felt oddly swollen and tender. Did crying really do that? She had not cried like that since she was a child, and she had almost forgotten how tired, yet relaxed, one felt after letting it all pour out.  
Voldemort looked her over for a moment, being completely obvious as he did it, and Bellatrix felt herself smirk at the appreciative twinge in his eyes.  
He'll never love you, Bellatrix.

She flinched suddenly, Rodolphus' voice ringing once more in her head, and she looked away, hoping he wouldn't press into her thoughts. She noted his sudden fall in expression, and Voldemort rose, the billowing sleeves of his cloak brushing against her cheek lightly.

"Perhaps you should return to your wedding, girl," he intoned sharply, causing her eyes to flicker up to his dark figure, "I'm sure they will be missing you."  
"Can't I stay here?" she asked weakly, her voice shaking, "I like it better here."  
"I don't think that would be wise, Bella."  
"Why not?"

He remained silent, his steady, deep breathing unnerving her as she sat on the cold floor, her body starting to shiver. She would most definitely be sick the next day; soaking dress and a cold room was never a good mix.

"Bella-"  
"I saw the wedding," she said loudly, cutting him off before she lost the nerve to do it, "I danced with the man my mother wanted me to dance with, and now... Can't I stay here?"  
"I'm sure your sister misses you, Bellatrix," he remarked, finally turning back to face her, "Would you like it if she left on your wedding day?"  
"Depends on who my husband was," Bellatrix replied, sitting up on her knees and shuffling closer to him, "Please, let me stay here, with you..."  
"I do not usually entertain people, you know that," he snapped, causing her to fall back down to the submissive position she was in on the floor, "Nor do I ever desire real company, little girl."  
"I miss seeing you," she admitted, "I miss lessons."  
"I think you are quite capable of learning things on your own now."  
"But-"  
"Bella, hush," he snarled, making her voice hitch in her throat, "What would you want to do if you stayed? Hmm? There are productive things you could be doing with your time!"

He had never shouted at her before. Whenever he was cross, he would toy with her mind in a cruel way, making her instantly regret whatever she had done. But he had never raised his voice to her. Now that it had been done, she trembled, and hastily grasped her wand before apparating back to her room, trying to get the vision of his glaring eyes out of her mind.

She moved numbly around her room, pulling off her soaking dress and hanging it up, then pointing her wand at it and making sure all signs of wetness were gone. Once her dress was fixed, she stood in front of it, naked, besides her undergarments, and glared. Stupid Rodolphus made her think she loved him. All thoughts of love and Voldemort never crossed her mind until he said something!  
There was a sudden tap at her door, and she barked for them to come in, knowing it was probably her mother, or a house elf, telling her she had taken too long already.

"Oh... Well, it's a little soon," Rodolphus laughed, causing Bellatrix to whip back, her hands covering her barely concealed chest, "But alright."  
"Get out!" she hissed, her eyes narrowing, "I thought you were a bloody house elf!"  
"It's sad how you make that comparison, love," he chuckled, stepping inside completely and shutting the door, "But I'm not going to complain... Whatever gets you off."  
"Lestrange-"  
"Back to being so unfriendly?" he mused, crossing the room and picking up her bath robe, "Want this?"  
"Give it here," she snarled, snatching it away from him as he got close enough, then tying it tightly, "What are you doing here?!"  
"Your mother sent me, actually," he laughed, pushing a piece of hair out of her face, "Said you were taking too long-"  
"Don't touch me," she ordered, smacking his hand away, "You... You..."  
"Yes?"  
"You made me think too much!"

Rodolphus grinned, his handsome features lighting up, and he ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, "Now Bella, whatever could I have said-"  
"You said I loved him!" she shrieked, hitting his chest forcefully, "You said that I loved him, and when I went to go see him, I remembered what you had said, and he sent me away!"

A tense silence settled over the pair, and Bellatrix turned away from him and stormed back over to her closet. Oh, what did it matter if he saw? He had already seen, right?

She roughly undid the knot that held her bath robe together, then dropped the white garment off her shoulders, kicking it to the side. The dress was completely dry, as magic never failed, and she pulled it smoothly over her head, sliding her arms through the small sleeve holes, then flicking what caught hair out of the way before searching for the strings to lace it back up. However, she felt Rodolphus already there, lacing up the back of her dress for her, his strong hands moving skillfully, pulling it tighter then it had been before. The bodice was too tight like this, but for some reason, it felt better. Pain was enjoyable, at the time being.

"Why did you go see him, Bella?" he whispered, taking his time to tye the knot up completely in the back, "He doesn't like visitors-"  
"I know," she reflected, her tone even, "He made that very clear."  
He sighed, "Bella-"  
"Don't," she warned, turning back to look at him, her eyes instantly locking onto his, "Just don't."


	17. Comfortable

Bellatrix stood in her group of other nameless black robes, grinding her teeth together, mainly out of habit, as she watched Voldemort relay his instructions onto his followers. Lucius was absent from the usual circle of Death Eaters, and Bellatrix noted, with some jealousy, that he was away on his honeymoon still with Narcissa in France.  
How unimaginative. He couldn't think of anywhere nicer to go? Nearly every Black had gone to France for their honeymoon.

Anyway. She was sure, that when she would marry, she would force her husband to take her somewhere different; somewhere exotic.  
Tonight's meeting had been no different from the last. The Dark Lord was curious as to how far everyone was getting on the private missions he had assigned. Naturally, she and Snape were the last to be talked to, and Bellatrix barely noticed as Rodolphus moved past her when Voldemort was finished with him, a pale finger just touching hers as he moved. She wrinkled her nose beneath her mask and retracted her hand back within her cloak, hoping he, Voldemort, hadn't noticed.

"Speak," Voldemort rasped, his icy tone causing a tremor to erupt inside Bellatrix, and she was thankful when Severus Snape made a notion to get all he had to say in first.

"We've discovered Bernice Williams has no other family in the country that would notice her absence when we terminate her," Snape explained, his voice ringing out clearly, despite the fact he was covered from head to toe in Death Eater garb, "She usually doesn't leave the home, unless it's to retrieve something necessary."  
"She leaves on the weekends," Bellatrix continued, thankful her voice did not fail when Voldemort turned his gaze sharply upon her, "And she has a rabid fear of of small spaces."

Ah yes, he was pleased. For once, Voldemort smiled, be it only for a moment. Snape and Bellatrix had been doing their jobs, and as soon as the Malfoy wedding had been completed, they set to work on trailing the woman at any chance they got.

Bernice Williams was a rather curvy woman who hid herself away in Northern Scotland. She had no job, from what Bellatrix could tell, and spent most of her days talking to her numerous cats. However, the Minister of Magic did enjoy making several stops a week into her home, and from the moment he arrived, Bellatrix knew they had enough blackmail to keep him quiet. At least for a little while.

However, they had no intention on using his affair as means of blackmail, since they planned on using whatever information Bernice could give them, willingly or unwillingly, to make the Minister meet a few small demands.

"Excellent," Voldemort mused, scratching his chin with one slim finger, "When do you plan on speaking with her."  
"Soon," Bellatrix replied, swallowing thickly when his eyes narrowed, "All I can say is that this weekend she'll no longer be the Minister's mistress, my Lord."  
"Good. Leave a mess... when you do it."

Both Bellatrix and Severus bowed as low as they could, knowing Voldemort had finished with them, and turned to leave, both of their cloaks swishing in the light breeze.

"Since when were we planning on doing the kill this weekend?" Snape hissed as they walked off. Bellatrix suddenly noticed the vast difference in their stature, when walking. Severus had more of a hunched back, while Bellatrix stood tall and proud. Perhaps it was his horrid upbringing that made him ashamed.  
"Black!" Voldemort shouted, causing Bellatrix's proud shoulders to instantly fall, the anger in his voice quite evident. She turned back, muttering, "I'll talk to you later."  
"Hmm."

Of course he wouldn't offer any words of sympathy. But then again, no one really cared when a Death Eater was forced to face Voldemort's wrath. Most just hurried away, thankful that it wasn't them.  
But she hadn't done anything wrong! There wasn't anything he could punish her for! She had not seen him since the wedding, as she was too scared to return back to his classroom alone. Stupidity was not in Bellatrix's blood.

"Remove your mask, Bella, we are alone," he ordered sternly when she stood in front of him. Her fingers fumbled over the skull-like mask, and when she finally removed it, she allowed it to fall to the ground, landing noisily at her feet.

"Have I done something wrong, my Lord?" she asked before he could say anything, her stance still slightly tall, her pride waning. Voldemort watched her in silence, his cold stare killing off all sort of pride within her.

She always loved coming to meetings. The atmosphere was toxic, and it was usually in a graveyard, or a back field. Somewhere that meant no one would hear anyone scream. However, that night, she wished she was somewhere safer. Somewhere warmer, at that.

Voldemort stood before a lone gravestone, atop the burial mound with extreme disrespect, then drew out his hand, extending it to her, "Come here, Bella."

She stepped forward, tentatively taking his hand, smiling at how warm it was, and moved in closer to him. A thought flashed across her mind, and she wondered if he was going to hurt her somehow. Punish her for some unknown crime or offense she had committed.

However, he just continued to stare down at her, and when he brought his spare hand up to brush some of her hair away, she flinched, then blushed, allowing a small smile to grow.

"I looked into your mind and saw something I did not like on our last visit," he started, his fingers knotting in her black locks, "Can you promise me you'll never show me that again?"  
What had he seen? Bellatrix bit her lip, "If it was that stupid thing Lestrange said about me... You know... Loving you-" she noticed his lip curl slightly, "You'll... You will be happy to know that it's complete rubbish. I admire you for your mind, my Lord. I don't love you."

She felt the back of her head begin to tingle, and she instantly shut her eyes, "My Lord, why won't you believe me, rather than check my mind?!"  
"Your mind portrays the truth, my dear," he stated, no ounce of enjoyment in his voice as he mocked her with the 'dear' pet name, "Why can't I look if nothing is a lie?"  
"Because you should trust me!" she exclaimed, her eyes snapping open and jaw falling slightly at her outburst. She hastily tried to pull her hand away from his, and hopefully die running, but he held her in place, his face utterly unreadable, much to her dismay.

"I'm sorry..." she whimpered, still trying to free herself, "I'm sorry, my Lord, I didn't mean to yell. My temper-"  
"Seems to be getting better," he chuckled, his grip relaxing slightly, "Surely before you met me you would have thrown something breakable."

Bellatrix grinned sheepishly, and cast her eyes to the ground as he slipped an arm around her hips, hoisted her up, then set her back down on the thin gravestone, his hands resting lazily on her legs.

"I don't trust anyone, Bella," he purred in her ear, "I thought you, of all people, would know that."  
"Of course I know that..." she murmured, closing her eyes contently, gently placing a hand on the back of his head, "That just... came out unexpectedly, I'm afraid."  
"Oh?" he chuckled, planting a kiss or two along the base of her neck, "Is that so? Shall I have to check, Bella?"  
"No..." she whispered, inhaling sharply when he nipped at her pale skin, her fingers tightening in his hair, "No, I'm not lying."  
"Good... I suppose I'll have to take your word for it."  
She slowly opened her eyes, then wrapped her legs around his hips, dragging him closer in one swift motion. He laughed against her skin, "Bold tonight, girl."  
"Only for you," she muttered back, pulling his head up for a much needed kiss, letting him take over almost immediately. Had his hands not slid round and cupped her backside, she would have tumbled off the stone, so she held on tighter, releasing a moan when he used his teeth on her. A hard grind of her hips into his forced a moan from Voldemort, though Bellatrix was slightly disappointed he held it back, as though it was a weakness to enjoy her.

He left her lips, much to her dismay, and returned to her neck, kissing her feverishly, and leaving her flustered with heavy breathing. She moaned his name softly as he reached between them and ripped open her cloak, hungrily nibbling on her exposed skin.

"Wouldn't you rather do this some place more... comfortable?" Bellatrix gasped when his hand slid blindly up her dress, grasping the fabric and dragging it up to her hips, revealing bare legs. Their rhythm increased, and Bellatrix heard him growl, "Since when does it matter to you whether your fuck is somewhere comfortable?"  
"Oh, it doesn't matter to me," she moaned, throwing her head back when his hand found just the right spot, "It's just... Don't you want some comfort?"  
He laughed coldly in her ear, his breathing still heavy, "How sweet that you should care for me, Bella."  
"I always care for you, my Lord," she whimpered, pouting when he removed his hand. She glanced to the side and noticed he was grinning, "It's not nice to wear nothing under these robes, Bella."  
"Makes this easier, doesn't it?" she mused, her hands finally moving down and unzipping his pants slowly. He hissed angrily in her ear, then ripped her hands away, holding them together by her wrists, "You take too many liberties, Bella."  
"Shame..." she whispered, kissing his jaw slowly, "I figured that helped a bit on the... strain."  
"Hush," he growled, turning his head and clamping down on her lower lip, causing her to squeal as he thrust into her.

Merlin, he was Heaven. When they were together, like this, she could always feel the power radiating off of him. It felt as though she was sharing a little bit of him, whether he meant to or not.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she suddenly noticed something in the background. A man was standing by a tree near the edge of the field, and when she squinted to bring him into focus, she inhaled sharply upon noticing it was Rodolphus.


	18. Bernice

"Are you sure no one's coming over tonight?" Snape inquired as he took a drag of his cigarette, casually glancing at Bellatrix, who was leaning against the fence beside him. They were in front of Bernice's home, which was hidden deep in the country. The only other sorts of contact for miles around were the farm animals, who reeked. How anyone could stand living on a farm was beyond her belief; she hated animals. They were always hungry and filthy and would just sit for hours in their own stench.

A lot like Evan Rosier, now that she thought about it.

"I thought it was your job to check whether or not someone was coming," Bellatrix remarked coldly, not bothering to give the young man a look as she continued to puff away happily on her cigarette, "Mind you, the only person who comes to see the old trollop is the Minister."  
"Calling her a trollop, Black?" Snape snorted, raising his eyebrows, "Sort of like calling the kettle black, don't you think?"  
She paused, then shot him a glare, "You think you're the first one to call me a whore, little boy? Must think you're terribly clever."  
"I do," he chuckled, finishing off his cigarette and dropping it to the earthy ground, digging it in with the heel of his black boot, "Should we just get this over with?"  
"Aww, what's the matter with you, boy?" Bellatrix snapped, rolling her eyes, "Not anxious to get home to your shack, are you?"  
"I, unlike you, don't quite get pleasure out of killing someone, I'm afraid," he replied icily, folding his hands across his thin chest, "I don't see how you can get a thrill out of it."  
"You don't?" Bellatrix trilled, raising her eyebrows, "Why are you a bloody Death Eater then?"  
"Not everyone in the ranks get a kick out of killing, you know," Snape stated, his eyes fixed on the one window radiating light on the second floor of the large house, "Some of us have other reasons."  
"Such as?"  
"I don't think I need to explain a personal choice to you, Black."

Bellatrix shot him a glare as she took the last drag from her cigarette, then dropped it by his foot, stomping down sharply, "Fine. Let's go."

She pulled her hood up, and noted Snape did the same, then stalked off toward the house. Snape's boot barely made a sound as he followed behind her, and she was almost tempted to ask where he got them, as her boots were the only thing either could hear on the rough, stony ground. Then again, high-heeled boots may not have been the brightest of ideas to wear that night.

"You want to talk then?" Snape inquired, "Like we practiced?"  
"Yes... That was fun," Bellatrix sighed, raising her pale fist to the wooden door and given it several solid pounds, then taking a step back, bumping into Severus slightly before snarling at him to get the Hell out of the way. His chuckle sparked a flame of anger in her, and it took her a moment to compose herself before forcing a smile as Bernice Williams, clad in a night robe, opened the door, her wand in hand, "C-Can I help you?"

Ugh, honestly - what did the Minister see in her? She was older than Bellatrix, possibely even older than Rodolphus. She reeked of alcohol, and on top of that, the house stank of cats.

"Good evening, ma'am," Bellatrix purred, drawing her hood down and forcing her smile to widen, "We're two representatives from the Ministry of Magic... We've been sent up to survey you to see how we can better serve all of the magical folk under our protection."

Well, that had gone better than she thought. Whenever Snape quickly made her say that stupid little blurb, she always drifted out into another thought, which earned her a sharp poke in the ribs from her temporary partner.

"Oh," Bernice flushed, and she ran a hand through some knotted hair, "Oh, no, no I don't need that... The Minister and I are good friends-"  
"I'm sure you are," Bellatrix giggled, pushing past the woman and inside, "But we'd like to ask a few questions anyway."

The woman opened her mouth to protest, but Snape had already situated himself inside, and shut the door. Bellatrix was clearly more sober than Bernice, and her keen sense of hearing picked up when Snape locked the door with all the subtle strength he could, an unreadable expression on his face. Oh, he'd never admit it to her face, but Bellatrix knew he was waiting for this kill. There was something about taking another life that got her blood pumping, all of their blood pumping. No one was going to be able to take that thrill away.

"You have a ... surprisingly nice home," Bellatrix muttered before she could stop herself, taking a moment or two to marvel at the fine woodwork and detailed carvings on the furniture. However, before another word could leave her lips, she nearly tripped over some ruddy cat. It hissed up at her, then scampered off to Bernice, curving around her legs lovingly.

God, it was sickening. Bellatrix never had cats in school. She had an owl, and found they were more useful than any other sort of animal they were allowed to bring. Even after she left Hogwarts, and when her sisters bought all sorts of cute animals, she refrained, and almost felt an odd sort of glee when they ran off. The Black girls had never really been terribly good at keeping pets.

"My late husband left me with a lot of money, I'm afraid," she stated, sighing dramatically for effect, obviously hoping it would cover the lie. Snape covered a snort with a cough, and they exchanged knowing glances with each other; the woman had never been married in her life.

"Oh, how lovely for you," Bellatrix cooed falsely, knowing that it would have been polite to intone that she meant she was happy that the woman was in a lot of money, and not that her husband had died. However, she merely smiled at the woman, who stared at her, aghast. Finally, Snape took charge, "Perhaps you should take a seat, Ms. Williams... We'd like to ask a few... deep questions."

The woman toddled over to a leather sitting chair next to a blazing fireplace, and smiled as a few cats crawled up to join her. Bellatrix wrinkled her nose in disgust as Bernice cooed and purred at them for some time, returning her attention to the two wizards with some hesitation, "Have I done something?"  
"No, no, of course not," Bellatrix laughed, flicking her wand at the curtains, smirking when she noticed the instant look of panic in Bernice's eye, "We are more interested in your rather... intamite affair with the Minister."

Then came the insesent babbling that gave Bellatrix a headache. Bernice refused to believe that she was having an affair, and leapt out of her chair so quickly that her cats went tumbling to the floor, to their discontent. While Bellatrix began to get irritated, Snape watched with mild amusement, his hands clasped in front of him, his hood finally drawn back.

"Oh, do shut up, woman!" Bellatrix snarled suddenly, ending Bernice's rant quite swiftly, "Do not try to play innocent with us... We're far from innocent people."  
Bernice swallowed thickly as Bellatrix began to twirl her wand through her thin fingers, her claw-like nails scraping against the wood every so often.

"You... You're not from the Ministry, are you?" she asked weakly, her eyes landing on Snape, as if trying to get some sympathy from the opposite sex. Snape grinned, revealing a set of oddly white, sharp teeth, "Naturally we have strayed from the Ministry. We work in better company, I'm afraid."  
"Shall we show her a mark, Snape?" Bellatrix inquired, feeling the urge to rip up her sleeve and thrust the Dark Mark into presence. Her companion rolled up his sleeve, and she hastily did the same, both revealing a dark set of marks. Bellatrix inhaled deeply as Bernice let out a shriek, exclaiming in shock that they were Death Eaters.

"I always love it when they tell us things we already know," Bellatrix giggled madly, pointing her wand at the shaking woman, "Now sit. We'd like to ask you some things... And if you're good... We may let you live to fuck the Minister one more time-"  
"How dare you speak to me like that!" Bernice cried as she remained standing, her stance one of defiance, "I'm you're elder, missy... Since when have you all lost touch with my generation-"

Before she could finish, and before Bellatrix could simply kill her, Severus Snape hexed her. There was a moment in which the air was silent, and then Bernice let out a howling mad cry, tumbling about from side to side, as though being flung around by some invisible force. Bellatrix raised her eyebrows appraisingly, "That's a good one... Which is that?"  
"One of my own concoction," he chuckled, both of their eyes tracking the woman as she howled in pain. Her cats had joined in the racket, and were all hissing from their hiding places along the furniture and stairs. Bellatrix rolled her eyes, "End it. We can't question her if she's dead."

Snape flicked his wand lazily at the screaming mess of a woman, and the noise instantly stopped. Bernice stumbled forth, clutching a chair for support, "You people are soulless."  
Bellatrix raised an eyebrow, an amused grin still gracing her dark lips, "Perhaps we are. But now is not the time... Tell us about the Minister."  
"He's a wonderful lover."

Bellatrix made a face, and just for cheek, shot a thunderous Crucio! at Bernice, watching as the woman shook and trembled under the painful curse before removing it.

"Do be serious, Williams, you're wasting our time if you're not," Snape barked, stalking over to her and shoving her down into a chair, "Has he ever revealed any sort of information to you? Perhaps a phobia? Something he holds dear to him?"  
"He's in love with me," she spat, her eyes watering, "He's going to leave that tramp for me... I'm what he thinks is precious."  
"I suppose that makes our killing all the more just," Bellatrix snorted, slinking toward the cowering woman with cat-like grace, "You're a silly woman, Bernice Williams, to tell something so valuable to us, about yourself."  
"Or perhaps she is smart," Snape laughed, tapping her on the nose with his wand, "And she doesn't want to suffer?"  
"Well, I'm sick of being in bloody Scotland," Bellatrix grumbled, noting how much colder it was way up North, and for once she was desperate to get home to a warm bed, and perhaps a hot bath, "And I'm sure the Minister would be heart-broken upon the death of his favourite whore."  
"I'm not a-"  
"Hush," Bellatrix hissed, her eyes flashing, "Of course you are... Helping a man with his affair... You don't think he has more of you out there?"  
"Kettle," Snape coughed, "Black."

Bellatrix froze and slowly turned her malicious glare on him, but he only returned it with a warm smile, "Please, go on, Black."

"I'm going to hurt you," she muttered, bringing her attention back to a sniveling Bernice, "We'll kill you quickly, then leave a mess for your Minister to find... Whatever the kitties don't eat, I suppose."  
Bellatrix stared directly into her eyes, the smiled, purring out, "Avada Kedavra."

She did so enjoy watching the pupils widen in her victims eyes as the life instantly drained from them, and this night was no different. With a satisfied smile, she pocketed her wand and shot Snape a grin, "Beat you to it."  
He glared at her sourly, then slunk outside, and just before the door slammed shut, she heard him cry, "Morsmordre!"


	19. Freedom

"You had some nerve coming to see me today," Bellatrix snarled, not even noticing as the waiter filled up her glass of wine again, "After what you did."

Rodolphus grinned, then nodded to the waiter as he left, going off to attend some other snotty couple in the Witches' Hat. Bellatrix continued to stare at him, then let out an annoyed huff, folding her arms.

Rodolphus had come to her house that day at around noon, telling her he was taking her for dinner that evening, and there was nothing she could do to refuse him. Naturally, she threw quite a fit in his general direction, and made a valiant effort to insult him out of the date. However, his witty rebuttles only intensified her rage, and in the end she finally agreed on a time just to get him out of the house. When he came to pick her up later, her temper had calmed, but only slightly, as knowing Rodolphus, he had managed to enflame it again once they arrived at the restaurant over some petty thing.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Bella, I really don't," he mused, picking up his own wine glass and giving the contents a lazy swirl, "Would you like to elaborate?"  
Bellatrix raised an eyebrow, then leaned forward, her eyes narrowing, "You know what you saw... I can't believe you watched."  
"I didn't stay for that sole reason, Bella," he laughed, shrugging his shoulders, "I planned on asking you to the dinner we're on tonight, but when I noticed you weren't coming, I went back to see what was happening."  
"Oh, so you came back to watch me shag out of fear for my well being, or because you wanted to see if I was being tortured or not... Which is it, Lestrange?" she snarled, almost tempted to get up and leave, had the wine not been free after one glass. Rodolphus smirked, "Be nice, I'm paying for your meal."  
"Then I'm surprised you didn't lug me out to a bloody pub again," Bellatrix sneered, "I figured one date to this place was all you were willing to spend on me."

"So tell me, love," he ordered, changing the topic, "How did the Dark Lord take to the fact you and Snape had no useful information for him? Don't think you got much of a shag after that little meeting, eh?"

Bellatrix shifted awkwardly in her seat, remembering her last meeting with Voldemort rather vividly. He was less than impressed the she and Snape just killed the whore without getting anything useful out of her, and he made his displeasure known as he tortured them both on the cold floor of his classroom. She was sure her screams were still echoing within the vacant room.

"He was pleased that we managed to hurt the Minister in any way," Bellatrix stated firmly, her monotone having very little affect on him, "He was upset that we didn't find out anything more."

Rodolphus watched her for a moment, his eyes unblinking, though radiating an odd warmth, one that Bellatrix was not used to. Her parents had cold eyes, as did her sister and Voldemort; but Rodolphus had heated, dark eyes. Searing, yet enticing at the same time.

She shook her head; since when had Rodolphus had enticing eyes? For a moment, she chalked it up to the slight intoxication she was suffering from, then snapped, "What?! What joy do you get from staring at me?!"  
"Do you really need to ask me that, Bella?" he mused, smirking slightly, "You know why I like to stare at you... Why I take you out."  
"You want to marry me," she replied bluntly, full well knowing the answer, "And yet you won't ask me properly."  
"You'd never answer me properly, love."

Bellatrix couldn't help but smile as she downed the rest of her drink, setting the empty wine glass down with care, "Ask then."  
"Marry me."  
With a roll of the eyes, Bellatrix snorted, "No. I'll say yes when you do it right, Lestrange."  
"I don't think there was anything wrong with that," he laughed, winking at her, "But now I know you'll say yes. May as well call us engaged, love."  
"I didn't exactly say yes," she sneered, picking up her fork and casually dragging it across her empty plate, pushing the sauce from her steak around, "So it's not like you can boast any sort of pride there, Lestrange."  
He rolled his eyes, "You know... I think we've done far too much talking tonight, Bella. Care to head off... If you've had all you can drink."

Bellatrix shrugged, then glanced back to the open bar. There were so many various types of drink she could try while she was here, since Rodolphus was paying for everything. However, when in the company of Lestrange, it was probably best to keep a semi-sober mind.

"I don't want anything more to drink-"  
"Well, Hell hath frozen over, eh?" Rodolphus snickered, watching her as she glared at him sourly, "Don't look at me like that, love."  
"I'll look at you however I want if you insist on bothering me," she snapped, rising, "Let's go. I do not need any more to drink."  
"Fine then... Off we go," Rodolphus sighed, standing up and dropping a few bills on the table, his eyes skimming the check, "You're a pretty cheap date, Bella."  
"Not the first time I've heard that," Bellatrix chuckled, following Rodolphus toward the coat check on the first floor, "I take pride in not spending too much... Then I don't owe the man anything."

Rodolphus snorted as she snatched her cloak away from the young coat-check, then stuffed it into his hands, giving him a quick smirk before turning her back to him, waiting to slip it over her shoulders. He took his time, sliding the tips of his fingers over her skin delicately, causing her to shiver slightly. When she was sick of him taking his time, she finally just pulled the rest of the cloak on herself, then whipped back to face him, "Shall we?"  
"Where to?"  
"I was thinking home," she stated, glancing at the cloak, "It's almost ten... I need to find something better to do for the rest of the night."

"Well, you see, I was hoping we'd venture back to my place," he mused, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, "Drinks, maybe?"  
"I don't want anything more to drink," she stated again, "Stop trying to get me piss drunk."  
"I just know of your fondness for the drink," he laughed, kissing the side of her head as the pair departed from the restaurant, earning him a glare from Bellatrix, "I'm trying to treat you to a good date."  
"You know what was a good date?" she inquired, hooking her own arm around his waist, "When we went to the pub... Best... slop I've ever eaten."  
"Guess I won't have to drag you back kicking and screaming next time," Rodolphus murmured, holding her a little tighter, "What do you say... My flat's not that bad."  
"You have a flat?" she giggled suddenly, her eyes darting up to his face, trying to see whether or not he was serious. When he did not return her curious smile, her eyes widened, "Bloody Hell... You actually live in a flat?!"

No one owned a flat! Everyone had their own manor. At least, the people that traveled in Bellatrix's circles owned a manor. Was Rodolphus going through some sort of money problem?

"What's the matter with a flat?" he demanded, stepping away from her. Bellatrix rolled her eyes, "Oh, don't act defensive... It's just... What's good about a flat?"  
"It's my own," he informed her, smirking slightly, "I don't share it with my parents... I can do whatever the bloody Hell I want to do with it, and not get into any sort of trouble because other people don't like it."  
"But-"  
"I still have a room at the manor," he grumbled, "Since mother seems quite insistent that I don't spend any time in my own home... But I've got my own flat. You own a room, Bella."  
She raised an eyebrow, then let out a sigh, "As much as I hate to admit it-"  
"I'm right?" he suggested, causing her to snarl something offensive at him for finishing her sentence.

In a way, she sort of envied him for having that sort of freedom. Naturally, a flat was quite small, but at least Rodolphus owned it, and he didn't have to deal with meddlesome parents, specifically mothers, at all hours of the day.

"So come on... I'll treat you to a night of freedom," Rodolphus laughed, grasping her hand once more, "What do you say?"  
Bellatrix let out a sigh, then glanced down at their clasped hands, knowing he wouldn't give up until she agreed, "Fine."


	20. Acceptance

"So... This is it," Rodolphus sighed, motioning to the flat Bellatrix had just stepped inside of, "What do you think?"

What did she think? Was he serious? He had taken her to a bloody flat! Well, if she thought hard about it, it wasn't too bad. The neighbourhood was full of large manors, and Rodolphus's building seemed to be the only one of its kind on the street. Judging by the sheer size of the entrance hall, Bellatrix assumed the rest of the apartments were also quite large.

He did seem to have some taste, if what he said about designing the place solo was true. The colours all complimented each other, and suited his dark, dry personality. A lot of browns, blacks, and whites littered the first room she saw, and Bellatrix summed it up to being tolerable.

"I suppose I don't gag looking at it," Bellatrix said finally, deciding that was as generous as she was going to be, "But something tells me the only room you want to be in, tonight, is the bedroom."  
"Now what would give you a silly idea like that, Bella?" he inquired, standing behind her and gingerly pulling off her cloak, "I was thinking we could start in the kitchen with more wine... Then move to the bedroom."  
"Do you think the only way you'll get me to shag you is if I'm drunk?" Bellatrix snapped, rolling her eyes and stalking into his flat, "Honestly, Lestrange, you've been doing pretty well so far... I don't think getting me drunk is really necessary."

As she strolled in further, she noticed the central area of his flat was a massive circle, almost like her old Slytherin Common Room, and there were four spiral staircases that went up on different sides. Her eyes followed one set of stairs, and she noted they led to a tiny metal balcony that wound itself all the way around the main room, the walls replaced with bookshelves, all brimming with books. There was a large fireplace near a set of seating furniture, and the wooden bookshelves were anchors to the numerous torches that ignited with a swish of Rodolphus's wand.

"Now I'm impressed, Lestrange," she mused, stalking into the room and running her pale fingers over the backs of the books, "I never took you for a reader."  
"Keeps the mind sharp," he stated, leaning against another bookshelf across from her, "Do you read a lot, Bella?"  
"Father used to force us to read," she droned, frowning, "But I never really took to it, unless-"  
"Unless it was something dark?"  
She paused, then slowly looked back at him, "How-"  
"You have a dark little mind, love," he informed her, shrugging his shoulders lazily, "Anyone could guess you were dark from the start."  
Bellatrix grinned at him, her eyes sparkling, "Of course You seem to know so much about me, Lestrange. Which one of my sisters did you interrogate?"  
"Oh, honestly, Bella, I'm far too old to play childish games like that," he snorted, glancing down at his nails. Bellatrix pursed her lips together, then snapped, "You're only a few years old then me... I don't think that excludes you from doing childish things."  
He grinned at her, then pushed himself off the wall, "Are you up for something more adult, Bellatrix Black?"  
"I don't know if you can handle anything more mature than witty bantering, if I am being perfectly honest with you," she cackled, throwing some black hair back over her shoulder that had fallen forward, "What did you have in mind, Lestrange?"  
"Are we going to dance around it all night, Bella?" he demanded, his tone still light and playful, but his eyes giving away his growing impatience. Bellatrix watched him for a moment, deciding she wanted to play with fire, "Dance around what, Rodolphus?"

His shoulders straightened, and she noticed the smile fade, "Bellatrix... I want to marry you."  
"That's wonderful for you," she mused, turning back to his vast book collection, "What's your point?"

She wasn't really reading any of the titles, she just wanted an excuse to turn away and play coy, as that seemed to bother him. He sighed loudly, letting it be known his patience was running thin, "Well... I also want to shag you so damn hard you will have difficulties moving in the morning."  
Bellatrix snorted, then cast a glance in his direction, "Charming."  
"Indeed," he grumbled, slowly moving toward her, "But you see I have morals to follow, unlike you."  
"Oh? You know... Insulting a girl will never get her into bed with you," she giggled, turning back, then suddenly letting out a soft gasp at how close he was, "Bloody fuck, Lestrange... Give me some space!"  
"The point of me telling you this... Is that while other girls come and go from my bed, I want you to stay in it," he continued, ramming a hand up beside her head, the entire bookshelf shaking, "And the only way to ensure that is if you promise me we'll be married."  
She cocked an eyebrow, then cleared her throat, "So what you're saying is... You can't shag me until I say yes to marry you?"  
"Exactly," he replied, his teeth gritted, "And I need a promise from you, Bellatrix, that you won't go crawling into other men's beds once you agree to marry me."

"You're getting ahead of yourself, Lestrange," Bellatrix snarled, stepping under his arm and storming back toward the door, "You're trying to chain me, not give me freedom-"  
"I am not," he snarled, rushing after her and clamping his hand down on her shoulder, forcing her around, "All I'm asking is for loyalty to me, and only me."  
"We're not... We're not even dating-"  
"What have we been doing for the past few weeks, Bellatrix?" he demanded, shaking her slightly, "We have been dating... I've been bloody well trying to court you for years now!"

Well, that did explain a lot of his actions whenever he was around her. Bellatrix still wasn't sure, however, that she wanted to marry him. She needed time to think it through first, but by the way he was acting, it didn't look as if she was going to get the time she needed.

So, she went with her first instinct of how to gain control of the situation. She swiftly grabbed the thick hair on the back of his head, and dragged him down for a kiss. That did it, and before she could stop him, he hoisted her up and began walking her somewhere, most likely his bedroom. Atleast he was distracted, for now.

She felt her back pressed into soft bedding, and when she opened her eyes, she took in the darkness of his rather small bedroom. It was almost as if that one central room was his entire flat, aside from the kitchen that she passed on the way inside.

Rodolphus moved down her neck, and she threw her head back, tugging on his hair ruefully as she studied his bedroom. They were on a double bed, which was pushed into the corner beside a window. A pair of double doors were down at the end, and Bellatrix assumed they either led to a closet, or a bathroom. The rest of his room was very minimal; a small writing desk, another bookshelf. It was as if all he ever did was read.

"Bellatrix?" he mumbled against her skin, his hands roaming roughly up and down her thighs, "I want an answer-"  
"Why are you talking?" she snarled, pulling harshly at his hair, "You're ruining whatever moment we're sharing, Lestrange!"

He rolled his eyes and crawled back up her body, grinding his lips into hers, not holding back at all. She couldnt help but moan as he started using his teeth more to nip at her, and when he pulled away to remove his shirt, she tasted a hint of blood on her lower lip.

Gods, it was exciting. With Voldemort it was also exciting, but this was different. Both men had different qualities that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

And the fact that he had quite the nice body helped a lot for Bellatrix to remain excited. She sat up as he kneeled over her, kissing whatever flesh she could find before hastily unbuttoning his pants and dragging them down, finding herself eye to eye with her prize.

"Bella..." he hissed, suddenly pushing her back down and crawling off her, kicking his pants to the side quickly, "I think you're still wearing too much."  
"I can't agree more," she gasped, raising her arms and lifting her hips as his fingers pushed the fabric of her one-piece dress up and over her head, leaving her nearly bare before him. She couldn't be bothered to wear a bra with that dress; it was built in. It worked to her advantage to, as Rodolphus seemed to be completely off the topic of marriage, and more into running his mouth teasingly along the side of her breast. She giggled and arched her back, gasping when his mouth closed over her nipple for a brief moment. Once more she found his lips crashing down into hers, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, moaning into his mouth as he fondled her forcefully.

She lifted her hips up once more, wrapping her legs around his thin waist, and grinding feverishly against him. With that final encouragement, he untangled himself from her, and shucked off the rest of his clothing. She hastily went to remove the last of her own innocence, but he pushed her hands away and curled his long fingers around her undergarment, urging her to raise her hips. Complying hastily, she let out a frustrated groan and moaned his name in the sultriest tone she could muster; she needed him... now.

She felt him kiss along the sensitive skin of her upper thigh, then inhaled sharply when a pair of fingers thrust inside of her without any warning. His nails needed to be cut, but she pushed past the brief moment of pain, enjoying the small sense of satisfaction. However, she still needed more, "Oh, come on, Lestrange Can't you satisfy a woman properly?"

He grumbled something to himself, then removed his fingers, making her bite her already sore lip to hold in a whimper. Her breathing was starting to become heavy, already, and she couldn't help but grin when he flipped her over, allowing her to be on top, "Satisfy yourself, Bella."

She needn't be told twice, and impaled herself on him, hissing in satisfaction at the complete feeling he gave her.

For the next little while, Bellatrix let herself go. She allowed Rodolphus's hands to wander wherever they pleased, and she moaned his name whenever she felt a particular moment of pleasure. When she finally felt herself reaching a climax, he rolled her over unexpectedly and pounded into her, causing her to lose her bearings slightly. Her hands curled into the bedspread, and when she reached her peak, she cried out his name. He picked up the pace as she lay beneath him, her breathing slowing down as he satisfied himself. Bellatrix wove her fingers into his hair, and pulled the strands taunt as he reached his own completion.

Rodolphus moved his weight off, resting next to her on the bed, panting, "Worth the wait, Bella."  
"I'm afraid I'll still be moving in the morning," she chuckled, rolling onto her side and crawling toward the edge of the bed, finding her pack of cigarettes still attached to the inside of her discarded dress, "You'll have to be a little harder next time, Lestrange."

She heard him laugh faintly as she lit up her cigarette, taking a lengthy drag before puffing out a cloud of smoke into the room. A finger slid slowly up her leg, over her arse, then onto the small of her back, drawing little shapes, "Smoking isn't good for you, Bella."  
"So?"  
"So? So you want to stay beautiful like this forever, don't you?" he mused, another finger joining the one dancing along her skin.

She paused for a moment; he had just called her beautiful. She rolled over, onto her back, and found herself settling into his arms, her face very close to his. With one final drag of the cigarette, she squished it out on his bed, then dusted the ashes off, "I'll clean it later."  
"Mmm."

Bellatrix gazed up at him, then curled a finger around a lone piece of chest hair, giving it a sharp tug. He inhaled sharply, glaring at her through scolding eyes, "Bella."  
She smiled slightly, then sat up on her elbow, staring down at her recent lover. Finally, it just came out, "I'll marry you, Lestrange."


	21. Father's Blessing

"Bella!" Narcissa giggled, slightly freckled from her recent honeymoon to sunny Paris, "Let me see the ring again!"  
"Oh, bugger off, Cissy," Bellatrix sighed, the corners of her mouth curling up, "Just because it's huge doesn't mean you can ogle it."  
"Wasn't that the point when you picked it out?" Rodolphus inquired from his seat on the couch, taking a sip of brandy. She glanced back and shot him a smirk, "No, darling, I just wanted you to spend as much money as possible on me."

He rolled his eyes and Narcissa grasped her hand, peering down at the ring, "It's so lovely, Bella."  
"If you ask me to up the size of your ring... I swear..." Bellatrix heard Lucius mutter from his place on the couch, exchanging looks with Rodolphus, then grumbling darkly to himself.  
It did sound like something Narcissa would do, she had to admit.  
"I'm happy with my ring," Narcissa said loudly, sending a glare over to her husband, "I was merely admiring my sister's. Is that a problem, Lucius?"  
"Of course not, dearest."

Well, only a few weeks into their marriage and she already had him under her thumb. Well, more under her thumb than before anyway.

She was no longer quite so jealous of her sister. It had been a week since Rodolphus proposed to her, and two weeks since she accepted properly, as he had asked her on various drunk occasions sometime before she said yes. There was a certain factor of love hidden somewhere, but it was deep down, and Bellatrix wasn't sure if it was real yet. She certainly did not like him as much as he liked her, but she guessed that would come with time. He was more than tolerable, and she figured she could learn to love him.

"So you're speaking with mother and father today?" Narcissa mused, a giddy twinkle in her eye, "You know that mother owled me about it... She seemed over the moon."  
"Well, the feeling is mutual," Bellatrix grumbled, rolling her eyes, "I can't wait to get out of here."  
"You'll like married life," she chuckled, flicking some blonde hair out of her face, "They do anything you ask... Right, Lucius?"  
"What?"  
"You'd do anything I asked you to do, right?"  
"Naturally, darling."  
"Wonderful."  
Bellatrix grinned, then looked over at Rodolphus, "I'm sure you'd do the opposite of what I asked you to do?"  
"Naturally, darling," he snorted, shooting Lucius an amused expression, "Can't let the woman have power, Malfoy."  
"Oh, don't be a pig," Bellatrix snapped, finally ripping her hand away from Narcissa, "Come along... Father wants us to meet him in his study."  
"But I'm hardly finished my drink, Bella-"  
"Move," she snarled, grasping his hand and dragging him off the couch. He downed his drink hastily and tossed it to Lucius, who managed to catch the glass without it shattering all over the floor. Narcissa quickly joined him on the couch, and though they were married, Bellatrix was tempted to tell her mother what she and her new husband were going to bloody well do on her couch.

"Don't rush me, woman," he snapped, pulling her to a slow walk when they were finally in the hall, "It's not like I'm racing to tell your father I'm going to marry you."  
"Why not?" she inquired, rolling her eyes, "Lucius had no problem doing it."  
"Your father actually likes Lucius," Rodolphus sneered, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, fiddling with a piece of hair, "As for me..."  
"Oh, he hates all of you," Bellatrix droned, giving his hand a squeeze, "Don't think you're that special, love."  
"I feel a little better now, actually."

Bellatrix snorted, then stepped away from him when they stopped at a closed door. She wasn't afraid of her father, not like Narcissa, and never backed down when he yelled at her. A key difference, she supposed, between her and her little sister.

With all the confidence she had, she shoved the door open, smiling warmly at her discontent father, who was seated behind a large, wooden desk, "Hello, father."

Cygnus Black cocked an eyebrow, then sighed, "Come in Bella... You as well, Lestrange."

She felt Rodolphus place a hand on the small of her back, then gently give her a nudge inside. Angrily, she was tempted to turn back and tell him she could walk on her own, but decided against it. She needed her father to see that she was happy with Rodolphus Lestrange. While her mother would have married any of her daughters to any man that proposed an interest, her father wanted her to be happy, like Narcissa was. They had thought Andromeda was happy, but they were horribly mistaken.

"Have a seat," Cygnus offered, motioning to the two chairs, "This won't take long... I have a few questions."

Her father could be an intimidating man. He had a strong personality, and his appearance matched. A firm jaw, steely eyes; Bellatrix knew most of her looks were from him, rather than her piggish mother.

"Lestrange, how well off are you?"

Bellatrix leaned back in her chair, watching her husband-to-be speak calmly, and firmly to her father, "Well off, sir. I can look after Bellatrix."  
"Hmm. I hear you already own a ... flat?"  
Bellatrix could hear his evident disgust, and she decided to speak for him, "I saw it the other day, father. It's quite lovely. Very big."  
"Is that true?"  
"Yes, sir. My parents wanted me to live with them until I was married, but it made more sense to own a home that was just for me. Naturally, Bellatrix and I can find a new one once we are married."

The way he spoke was just... effortless. And thankfully he didn't have to lie; her father was a good lie detector.

"When are you planning on getting married?" her father inquired, folding his hands together and staring Rodolphus down, "And will it be here?"  
"Well," Rodolphus hesitated, glancing over at Bellatrix, "We haven't picked a date yet, and it can be wherever. I really don't have any issues with it being anywhere Bellatrix would like."  
"So you don't care?"  
"No."  
"Now why is that... Don't you care about the important things?"

Bellatrix groaned inwardly; he was really going to question Rodolphus. He hadn't even taken this long with Lucius! Narcissa and her new husband spent a whole five minutes in with their father before everyone came out smiling and shaking hands.

What was so bad about Rodolphus?

"I do not think the wedding could be categorized as important, Mr. Black."  
Ah. That was what was wrong with him. Bellatrix shot him a glare, one identical to her father, but she noticed the corners of Rodolphus's mouth curving up slightly, "I think the fact that we are getting married is important. I don't care where we have it."  
Bellatrix watched him as he said this, and when he finished, he glanced over at her, smiling. She shifted slightly, then after noticing her father studying her, returned the smile earnestly. Cygnus cleared his throat, "One last question, Lestrange."  
"Yes, sir."  
"Why didn't you ask my permission first?"

He never asked? Bellatrix cocked an eyebrow, curious of the response herself. Perhaps this was why her father liked Lucius more. She remembered the day when Lucius Malfoy came to her house, not to see Narcissa, but to talk to her father about something. They spent almost two hours in the study, and when they were finished, she had never seen Lucius smile so much. He probably thought no one was watching.

"Mr. Black, I love your daughter very, very much," he stated bluntly, leaning in a little, "Most men do not love the woman they marry. They marry for family connections and money... I want to marry Bellatrix because I love her. I couldn't contain myself when I finally got the acceptance from her to ask."  
"You told him it was fine to ask you?" her father snapped, causing Bellatrix to shrug. She smirked over at Rodolphus, "Oh, father... Don't sound surprised. I'm not like Narcissa who would wait. I was fine with him asking... But that didn't mean I accepted right away."  
"You turned him down?"  
"I waited for him to be more... passionate about it," she mused, noticing Rodolphus raise an eyebrow at her, then chuckle under his breath. Cygnus Black let out a deep sigh, then shook his head, "I didn't think anyone would ever take you, Bella. You know she can't have children, correct?"  
"I wasn't aware," Rodolphus remarked, frowning, "But that doesn't matter."  
"Don't you want an heir?"

Bellatrix felt the heat rise to her cheeks, and she instantly felt embarrassed, though she couldn't understand why. Children were a nuisance, and she had always hated them.

"If Bellatrix and I really want a child, then we will adopt one," Rodolphus stated, reaching over and placing his hand atop of hers, "Just because she can't have children is not a turn-off, sir."  
"For most sensible men it is," her father sneered, rolling his eyes, "But as long as my daughter is happy... and you don't leave her for a more... fertile woman-"  
"Father!" Bellatrix snarled harshly, her eyes narrowing, "He doesn't care about children, all right? Leave it at that."

They shared an intense glare, until Rodolphus finally broke the silence, "So we have your blessing, sir?"  
"I suppose," Cygnus grumbled, "Pick a date for the wedding and tell me... We can have it here, again."  
"I'll decide where I want my wedding to be, father," Bellatrix announced, rising swiftly, "Thanks for the blessing."

She turned sharply on her heel, infuriated that her father was still making choices for her, then stalked toward the door, hearing Rodolphus following closely after bidding her father a formal farewell.

"Bella, relax," he ordered as he shut the door, noticing her fuming, "It's over. We don't need to ask him for anything anymore."  
"You know what we should do?" she giggled, grasping the front of his shirt and stepping closer to him, molding her body into his, "We should just run off and get married in some... pub by a drunk official. Oh, Gods, could you imagine their faces?"  
"Bella," he scolded, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her forehead, "Your family has been through enough with... Andromeda-" Bellatrix flinched at her name "-and I think you need to do this properly."  
"Fine," she grumbled, shutting her eyes and resting her head against his chest, "But if we have it at this damn manor, so help me, I will hurt you."  
The hallway echoed with Rodolphus's thunderous laugh.


	22. Let her go

Bellatrix stared down at the note Voldemort had sent her, curious as the reason he requested a visit. Thankfully, no one was in the house, and Rodolphus was spending the day visiting a cousin up in Ireland, so she had the free time to come whenever the Dark Lord called.

She quickly fixed her wild hair in the mirror, and threw her thick, black cloak on over her shoulders, then apparated to the classroom. Upon arrival, however, she noted that Voldemort was nowhere to be seen.

"My Lord?" she called, watching the torches flickering dimly around her. Perhaps he was somewhere else in the house? Sighing, she made her way out the classroom, flinching when a rat scampered out of a hole, over her foot, then went sliding across the room. Knowing what followed, she hastily stepped out of the way as Nagini came hurdling out of the small hole, her eyes locked on her next source of food. She wrinkled her nose, then continued along, figuring it would be best to go to the only other room in the house she knew; the study.

It had been some time since she had been called to see him anywhere else other than her classroom, and as she strolled through the dark halls, she pondered the reasons he had for asking upon her. Was she getting a new assignment? Did he just want her company? Had he a lesson?  
Much to her pleasure, Bellatrix found Voldemort sprawled out along the couch in his study, a book in hand. She stood at the door, silently, waiting for him to call her in.

His eyes flickered up for a moment, but they instantly returned to his book, a grin on his face, "Come in, little girl."  
"Thank you, my Lord," she replied automatically, taking a step forward, then pausing, "What can I do for you?"  
"Oh, Bella," he laughed, snapping his book shut and tossing it across to the coffee table, "I didn't call on you for business... I've noticed something in you lately."  
"Oh?" she remarked, raising an eyebrow. Since when had he taken such a notice in her?  
Voldemort smirked, "Don't think like that, Bella. I'm always interested in what happens to you. Aren't you curious as to what I've noticed?"  
"A little," she replied honestly, picking at her nails, "Have I done something wrong?"  
"No, Bella," he answered, beckoning her over with a lazy wave of his hand, "I've noticed you're... happy."

Bellatrix smiled as she casually strode over, standing directly in front of him, "Have I been happy? I suppose..."  
He grasped her hand roughly, then dragged her down into his lap, curving an arm around her stomach. Being so close to him on an intimate level was nice, more than nice, but for once, her brain felt conflicted. There was still the whole issue of having Rodolphus Lestrange, and getting married. As subtly as she could, she slid the hand with her engagement ring on it under his cloak, hiding it from plain sight. For some reason, she didn't want him to know she was to be wed.

"And the strange thing is, my Bella," he mused, knotting a finger in her hair, "I can't seem to figure out why. Are you trying to keep me out of your mind, for once?"  
Bellatrix adjusted her position on his lap, making herself seem as though she was trying to get more comfortable, not stalling. Finally, she spoke up, her voice cracking slightly, "Do you really want to know?"  
"Yes."  
She swallowed thickly, gingerly retrieving her hand from under his cloak, the large ring now visible, "Lestrange proposed to me."

There was a silence that followed that chilled Bellatrix to the bone. She wasn't sure whether he was angry, or he didn't care, or he just had nothing to say. He grasped her hand and held it up at eye level, examining it carefully.

"Was he the man you spoke to me about?" he inquired, his tone flat. Bellatrix frowned, "I'm sorry?"  
"You came to me on the day of your sister's wedding, the one who ran off with the Muggle born," he explained, weeding his fingers between hers, "And you said the man who you would want to ask you never would, because he couldn't. Was Lestrange the man?"

She sat up, a little shocked that he even remembered that conversation all those months ago. However, she knew the answer almost instantly, "No, my Lord... It's not Lestrange."  
"Do you love him?"  
"Does it matter?"

They gazed at each other for a moment, and at last Bellatrix understood the look in his eyes; he was going to let her go.

"Don't," she whispered, clutching the front of his cloak, "Please, don't send me away..."  
"Bellatrix," he said slowly, using her full name for emphasis, "I'm not going to continue this little affair with you if you're going to be married. It's bad enough that you love me."

Bellatrix felt her facial expression numb, and she quickly shook her head, "No, no, my Lord... You don't understand! I love you, yes, but I love you in the sense I want to serve you, and make you happy! I'm not... in love with you."  
"Bella..."  
"I'm not," she argued weakly, almost hearing the falter in her tone, but choosing to ignore it, "Don't send me away... My Lord, I don't want to go away."  
"Bella," he sighed, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear, "Sometimes it doesn't matter what you want... It matters what's best."  
"This is what's best!" she whispered, her eyes searching for some hint of agreement in his. However, his dark orbs remained blank, and she felt as though she was staring into a wall. He pulled his hand back, then lifted her off his lap and back down onto the couch. She watched as he rose, his cloak billowing around him, and his expression grim, "I don't think we should have any sort of lessons for some time, Bella."  
"Please, don't say that."  
"Perhaps you should leave, Bella," he urged with his back to her. She glared at him, then stood, "Just because I'm marrying someone doesn't mean we need to stop having lessons!"  
"Don't push me, Bella!" he snarled, turning to face her sharply, his eyes narrowing at her, "Get out."  
"My Lord-"  
"Out!"

Bellatrix stared up at him defiantly, almost daring him to throw her out. He took a step forward, then grasped her upper arm painful, causing her to wince, "Bellatrix, you are a fully capable witch, by now, and no longer need lessons. Anything else you will need, I'm sure, can be taught to you by your... husband."  
Bellatrix swallowed shakily, her eyes welling with tears, though she was couldn't understand why. He released her, though continued to stand in such close proximity it made her weak, "I trust you really did know what man I was talking about, my Lord?"  
"Yes... I did."  
"If he had said something, the ring on my finger would have been his, not Lestrange's."

Voldemort gazed down at her, the smile she so desperately wanted to see never appearing, "He can't."  
"Apparently so..." she sighed, pulling out her wand from her cloak, gripping it tightly with all the anxiety she wished she could show, "Will I still be called to meetings?"  
"I've never treated you differently than any other of my followers when I needed a task completed, Bella," he murmured, his tone caressing her name with delicacy chosen for lovers, "That will not change. You will still be given your tasks, and you will complete them. Understood?"  
"Completely," she replied coldly, suddenly kneeling before him and grabbing his hand, planting a chaste kiss on his ring, "I shall await your call, my Lord."  
And with that, she was gone.


	23. Epilogue

Voldemort sat in the large chair across from his couch, located in the heart of his house, deep in his favourite study. There, across from him, lay Bellatrix Lestrange. He was not completely sure what had happened at the Ministry, and her unconsciousness was a shock when they finished the apparation.

He vaguely recalled her eyes as he swooped down upon her, apparently wide with astonishment, and possibly fear, that he had rescued her from another jail sentence. Bleeding Hell.

The Ministry escapade had been a total and utter failure. Not only had the Prophesy been broken, many of his most skillful Death Eaters had been captured by Dumbledore and the Auror Brigade. He rose out of his seat, running a hand over his smooth, bald head.

Damn them all the fucking Hell. He picked up a book and hurled it across the room, feeling some frustration seep out as the hardcover smashed a scenic painting, sending everything tumbling to the ground. The commotion roused Bellatrix from her unconsciousness instantly, and though his back was turned to her, he could hear her breathing instantly pick up, and he could almost see her dark eyes snapping open in alarm.

He had taken the time to study her when he saw her for the first time in nearly fourteen years. Her eyes were darker, with rings around them, and her high cheekbones were much more prominent than he remembered. When she had escaped from prison, he saw her without her mask, something he hadn't done for far too long. Just gifts were required for all those who had stayed faithful to him within the depths of Hell, and the Lestranges were only one of the families to do so. He rewarded them with praise, naturally, as they had never denied their allegiance to him.  
They had shared a moment, Bellatrix and Voldemort. When her husband had turned away, she held his eyes for a moment, her mind an open book to the suffering she endured for him, and the heartache that was still hidden away, never allowed to resurface, unless in her mind.

The next time he saw her after that, she was once again hidden behind a mask, her dark eyes watching him intently, portraying the same excitement the rest of the men did when Voldemort explained their mission. However, even as her husband held her hand, his thumb lovingly stroking her pale skin, she refused to return the affection in front of Voldemort. He looked away briefly, as though listening to what Malfoy had to say. Out of the corner of his eye, he finally witnessed Bellatrix give her husband a quick kiss amongst the disappearing Death Eaters.

"My Lord?"

Her voice had turned harsh over the years, no doubt from the horrors that she suffered in Azkaban. Bah; she knew nothing of real physical suffering - he had, after all, been close to death for too many years.

"Yes, Bella?"  
The pet named rolled off his tongue so easily, as it had numerous times back in the Ministry. However, there he had been flustered, and so close to killing that damn Potter. He had used her name in anger there, annoyance.  
"Please... Forgive me," she whimpered, the springs in the old couch groaning as she sat up, "I tried to... to... The stupid brat had already broken it by the time I was finished with Black-"  
"I don't want to hear it, Bella," he stated, continuing to look away from her, "Nothing more tonight of my servants pathetic failures."  
"I... " she trailed off, most likely knowing his temper better than the rest. An oppressive silence settled over the pair, and Voldemort finally turned back, his new, red eyes glaring down at her, "I trusted you to lead the attack-"  
"Along with Malfoy," she interrupted, "And he wound up in custody."

"Is that supposed to make you better?" Voldemort sneered, raising a nonexistent eyebrow, "Hmm?"  
"I'm always better than Malfoy... You know that better than most, my Lord," she replied, a faint smile crossing her large lips. Voldemort cocked a nonexistent eyebrow, "Pride is never a virtue when replaced with smugness, Bella."  
"Still a teacher, I see," she commented. Voldemort was still always shocked at her boldness. He couldn't understand why he let her get away with it when they were alone; she generally got the best of him when no one else was around to hear it.

"I'll always teach you something, Bella," he stated, noticing her nostrils flare heatedly. Perhaps that comment stung? Voldemort felt the urge to grin.  
"I was told I would no longer need lessons," she snapped, "And should I want them, my husband can provide-"  
"I don't think you're in any place to snarl at me, Bellatrix," Voldemort cracked, his eyes flashing murderously, "I saved you from any more time in Azkaban, even though you failed me miserably!"  
She cast her eyes down, as though giving him a mockery of shame. He knew she didn't feel remorse. It was as if she had waited for one moment to truly hurt him for sending her away all those years ago. He took a menacing step forward, "Don't do that, Bella."  
"Do what?"  
He fumed silently when she didn't look up to acknowledge him. So, with all the restraint he could show, he strode forth and roughly wrenched her face up to him, causing her to gasp softly, "You know perfectly well what you're doing. Stop, or I will punish you."  
"Haven't you already?"  
"Apparently it hasn't sunken into your head..."  
"Yes, I've been told it's rather thick."

He glared down at her, trying to figure out what on earth to bloody well do. He could punish her for cheek, or reward her for it. In his mind, the reward would benefit them both. He casually stroked a long, white finger along her jaw bone, his eyes locking onto hers. She cocked an eyebrow, and he noticed her dark eyes twinkle suggestively.

But... He couldn't do it.

Footsteps came thundering down the hall, and he dropped his hand, watching as she stared up at him, crestfallen. The noise grew louder, and Voldemort finally stepped back as Rodolphus Lestrange came hurdling into the room, his breathing heavy, "Oh, thank God, Bella. Snape told me the Dark Lord rescued you..."  
Voldemort took another step back as Lestrange crossed the room, dragging his wife into a hug. Her arms were limp, yet only for a moment, and it didn't take long for her to be curling her arms around him, her face against his chest.  
"She's lucky to be here," Voldemort informed him icily, staring away from the couple, "The rest have been arrested."  
"My Lord, you know I would have joined, had you asked me-"  
"And had your back been better," Voldemort snarled, causing the man, one of his early forties, to cower slightly, "You're no use to me if you continue to throw it out."

Apparently the escape from Azkaban had been more difficult for the male Lestrange, and while Bellatrix escaped with a few cuts and bruises, Rodolphus had a horrid back issue that had left him in bed for the past couple of weeks. Rumour had it Bellatrix was a very attending wife for her sick husband, which left Voldemort confused. Was he supposed to care? No. No, he had more important tasks to carry about. He couldn't waste his time playing some silly little love triangle with a woman who had sworn to follow him to the end of the world and back again. That had ended almost fifteen years ago, and he would not bring himself to let it start up again.

While he knew he should torture them both, perhaps bestow some more respect back into their hearts, he refrained. Tonight was too much of a let down, and for once, Voldemort wanted to be alone. Perhaps if Pettigrew returned, he could enjoy himself with a bit of sport.  
"You're both dismissed," Voldemort grunted, his eyes slowly wandering over to Bellatrix, "I shall call upon you very, very soon... We need to fix this."

Bellatrix gently let herself away from her husband, then quickly walked to Voldemort, her eyes emotional from all the events that had taken place that night. Even as he pressed into her mind briefly, he saw the battle, her cousin Black dying, the Golden Witch chasing her, Dumbledore...  
Her lips against his hand, not his ring, brought his musings to an end, and his eyes darted down to the woman at his feet. She smiled weakly, "We are in your debt for eternity, my Lord. We'll make things right."  
"You had better," Voldemort replied tightly, plucking his hand from hers with some difficulty, "I won't let this go. Round up what men you can, Lestrange, and see that they are aware that I will be calling on them soon."  
"Yes, my Lord," Rodolphus replied, bowing his head. Bellatrix pushed herself up and stalked back over to her man, linking her arm around his, "Good night, my Lord."

Voldemort snorted loudly, humourlessly, and watched as she helped her husband out of the room, the sound of them apparating away ringing in his ears for the rest of the evening.  
This was not over. Not yet. With a mere flick of his wand, he had the fireplace bursting with flames, the orange heat licking the brick walls from within feverishly.

Voldemort flung himself down in a chair and sighed, watching as a dark pair of eyes stared back at him from the flames, still twinkling suggestively.

* * *

Well, I tried to put off posting this as long as I could! But yes, this is the end of this section. If you'd like me to write a sequel - which would probably consist of one-shots or two-shots or whatever of Bella and Rod's life, with much Voldemort included of course - let me know. ... I'll put a poll up. My first poll on FF! Exciting! I dunno how long it would be. I wrote this one ages ago, when I had more time to write. The updates may be slower, but whatever.

I'd like to thank all those who took the time to read and review this! I was shocked at just how many people liked the story, and it meant a lot to me when I read the reviews, or saw how many people added it to their favourites.

Now just some special mentions (:

chiba-x-thanks - Thanks for being my first wonderful reviewer! It meant a lot... At that point, I wondered if anyone even liked reading the story!

Sheograph - Thank you for the continuous support throughout the series. It was always great to read your reviews! I'm glad my story kept you sane, m'dear.

thoseforbiddenlips - Hurrah! Thank you for the detailed reviews that you gave! It meant a lot to me to hear that you were a harsh critic, and I'm glad that I lived up to some standard. Thank you again for the support, and I always looked forward to reading your review with each chapter that I posted.

LazyCatfish27 - Aha. Your reviews honestly made me laugh. They were short, but the fact that you reviewed for each and every chapter made me feel bad that I don't take as much time to review the stories I read. Shame, shame, shame. Thanks for taking the time to put your input in! I really appreciated it!

Jacalyn Hyde - Cheers, babe! Thanks for the time and thanks for reviewing as much as you did! You apologized in one review for not reviewing the chapters before that one, and I really don't think that was necessary! I'm happy that you reviewed anything at all! Thank you!

j3nny - You're another one that reviewed a LOT. Thank you so much! The support was very encouraging!

Thank you to everyone else that reviewed! It really meant a lot to me. I wrote this story a year or so ago, and I worried that it wouldn't be up to standards anymore. And yet it became my most popular story! Thank you so much!


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